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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 254/927
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The
lamp
in
the
parlor
window
threw
odd
golden
shadows
onto
the
dark
vine-shrouded
porch
,
and
the
matted
tangle
of
yellow
climbing
roses
and
honeysuckle
made
a
wall
of
mingled
fragrance
about
her
.
The
night
was
utterly
still
.
Not
even
the
crack
of
a
rifle
had
sounded
since
sunset
and
the
world
seemed
far
away
.
Scarlett
rocked
back
and
forth
,
lonely
,
miserable
since
reading
the
news
from
Tara
,
wishing
that
someone
,
anyone
,
even
Mrs.
Merriwether
,
were
with
her
.
But
Mrs.
Merriwether
was
on
night
duty
at
the
hospital
,
Mrs.
Meade
was
at
home
making
a
feast
for
Phil
,
who
was
in
from
the
front
lines
,
and
Melanie
was
asleep
.
There
was
not
even
the
hope
of
a
chance
caller
.
Visitors
had
fallen
off
to
nothing
this
last
week
,
for
every
man
who
could
walk
was
in
the
rifle
pits
or
chasing
the
Yankees
about
the
countryside
near
Jonesboro
.
It
was
not
often
that
she
was
alone
like
this
and
she
did
not
like
it
.
When
she
was
alone
she
had
to
think
and
,
these
days
,
thoughts
were
not
so
pleasant
.
Like
everyone
else
,
she
had
fallen
into
the
habit
of
thinking
of
the
past
,
the
dead
.
Tonight
when
Atlanta
was
so
quiet
,
she
could
close
her
eyes
and
imagine
she
was
back
in
the
rural
stillness
of
Tara
and
that
life
was
unchanged
,
unchanging
.
But
she
knew
that
life
in
the
County
would
never
be
the
same
again
.
She
thought
of
the
four
Tarletons
,
the
red-haired
twins
and
Tom
and
Boyd
,
and
a
passionate
sadness
caught
at
her
throat
.
Why
,
either
Stu
or
Brent
might
have
been
her
husband
.
But
now
,
when
the
war
was
over
and
she
went
back
to
Tara
to
live
,
she
would
never
again
hear
their
wild
halloos
as
they
dashed
up
the
avenue
of
cedars
.
And
Raiford
Calvert
,
who
danced
so
divinely
,
would
never
again
choose
her
to
be
his
partner
.
And
the
Munroe
boys
and
little
Joe
Fontaine
and
--
"
Oh
,
Ashley
!
"
she
sobbed
,
dropping
her
head
into
her
hands
.
"
I
'll
never
get
used
to
you
being
gone
!
"
She
heard
the
front
gate
click
and
she
hastily
raised
her
head
and
dashed
her
hand
across
her
wet
eyes
.
She
rose
and
saw
it
was
Rhett
Butler
coming
up
the
walk
,
carrying
his
wide
Panama
hat
in
his
hand
.
She
had
not
seen
him
since
the
day
when
she
had
alighted
from
his
carriage
so
precipitously
at
Five
Points
.
On
that
occasion
,
she
had
expressed
the
desire
never
to
lay
eyes
on
him
again
.
But
she
was
so
glad
now
to
have
someone
to
talk
to
,
someone
to
divert
her
thoughts
from
Ashley
,
that
she
hastily
put
the
memory
from
her
mind
.
Evidently
he
had
forgotten
the
contretemps
,
or
pretended
to
have
forgotten
it
,
for
he
settled
himself
on
the
top
step
at
her
feet
without
mention
of
their
late
difference
.
"
So
you
did
n't
refugee
to
Macon
!
I
heard
that
Miss
Pitty
had
retreated
and
,
of
course
,
I
thought
you
had
gone
too
.
So
,
when
I
saw
your
light
I
came
here
to
investigate
.
Why
did
you
stay
?
"
"
To
keep
Melanie
company
.
You
see
,
she
--
well
,
she
ca
n't
refugee
just
now
.
"
"
Thunderation
,
"
he
said
,
and
in
the
lamplight
she
saw
that
he
was
frowning
.
"
You
do
n't
mean
to
tell
me
Mrs.
Wilkes
is
still
here
?
I
never
heard
of
such
idiocy
.
It
's
quite
dangerous
for
her
in
her
condition
.
"
