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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 287/927
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She
jerked
Prissy
to
her
feet
and
sent
her
kitchenwards
with
a
shove
.
Then
she
squared
her
shoulders
and
started
up
the
stairs
.
It
was
going
to
be
difficult
,
telling
Melanie
that
she
and
Prissy
were
to
deliver
her
baby
.
There
would
never
again
be
an
afternoon
as
long
as
this
one
.
Or
as
hot
.
Or
as
full
of
lazy
insolent
flies
.
They
swarmed
on
Melanie
despite
the
fan
Scarlett
kept
in
constant
motion
.
Her
arms
ached
from
swinging
the
wide
palmetto
leaf
.
All
her
efforts
seemed
futile
,
for
while
she
brushed
them
from
Melanie
's
moist
face
,
they
crawled
on
her
clammy
feet
and
legs
and
made
her
jerk
them
weakly
and
cry
:
"
Please
!
On
my
feet
!
"
The
room
was
in
semigloom
,
for
Scarlett
had
pulled
down
the
shades
to
shut
out
the
heat
and
brightness
.
Pin
points
of
sunlight
came
in
through
minute
holes
in
the
shades
and
about
the
edges
.
The
room
was
an
oven
and
Scarlett
's
sweat-drenched
clothes
never
dried
but
became
wetter
and
stickier
as
the
hours
went
by
.
Prissy
was
crouched
in
a
corner
,
sweating
too
,
and
smelled
so
abominably
Scarlett
would
have
sent
her
from
the
room
had
she
not
feared
the
girl
would
take
to
her
heels
if
once
out
of
sight
.
Melanie
lay
on
the
bed
on
a
sheet
dark
with
perspiration
and
splotched
with
dampness
where
Scarlett
had
spilled
water
.
She
twisted
endlessly
,
to
one
side
,
to
the
other
,
to
left
,
to
right
and
back
again
.
Sometimes
she
tried
to
sit
up
and
fell
back
and
began
twisting
again
.
At
first
,
she
had
tried
to
keep
from
crying
out
,
biting
her
lips
until
they
were
raw
,
and
Scarlett
,
whose
nerves
were
as
raw
as
the
lips
,
said
huskily
:
"
Melly
,
for
God
's
sake
,
do
n't
try
to
be
brave
.
Yell
if
you
want
to
.
There
's
nobody
to
hear
you
but
us
.
"
As
the
afternoon
wore
on
,
Melanie
moaned
whether
she
wanted
to
be
brave
or
not
,
and
sometimes
she
screamed
.
When
she
did
,
Scarlett
dropped
her
head
into
her
hands
and
covered
her
ears
and
twisted
her
body
and
wished
that
she
herself
were
dead
.
Anything
was
preferable
to
being
a
helpless
witness
to
such
pain
.
Anything
was
better
than
being
tied
here
waiting
for
a
baby
that
took
such
a
long
time
coming
.
Waiting
,
when
for
all
she
knew
the
Yankees
were
actually
at
Five
Points
.
She
fervently
wished
she
had
paid
more
attention
to
the
whispered
conversations
of
matrons
on
the
subject
of
childbirth
.
If
only
she
had
!
If
only
she
had
been
more
interested
in
such
matters
she
'd
know
whether
Melanie
was
taking
a
long
time
or
not
.
She
had
a
vague
memory
of
one
of
Aunt
Pitty
's
stories
of
a
friend
who
was
in
labor
for
two
days
and
died
without
ever
having
the
baby
.
Suppose
Melanie
should
go
on
like
this
for
two
days
!
But
Melanie
was
so
delicate
.
She
could
n't
stand
two
days
of
this
pain
.
She
'd
die
soon
if
the
baby
did
n't
hurry
.
And
how
could
she
ever
face
Ashley
,
if
he
were
still
alive
,
and
tell
him
that
Melanie
had
died
--
after
she
had
promised
to
take
care
of
her
?
At
first
,
Melanie
wanted
to
hold
Scarlett
's
hand
when
the
pain
was
bad
but
she
clamped
down
on
it
so
hard
she
nearly
broke
the
bones
.
After
an
hour
of
this
,
Scarlett
's
hands
were
so
swollen
and
bruised
she
could
hardly
flex
them
.
She
knotted
two
long
towels
together
and
tied
them
to
the
foot
of
the
bed
and
put
the
knotted
end
in
Melanie
's
hands
.
Melanie
hung
onto
it
as
though
it
were
a
life
line
,
straining
,
pulling
it
taut
,
slackening
it
,
tearing
it
.
Throughout
the
afternoon
,
her
voice
went
on
like
an
animal
dying
in
a
trap
.
Occasionally
she
dropped
the
towel
and
rubbed
her
hands
feebly
and
looked
up
at
Scarlett
with
eyes
enormous
with
pain
.
"
Talk
to
me
.
Please
talk
to
me
,
"
she
whispered
and
Scarlett
would
gabble
something
until
Melanie
again
gripped
the
knot
and
again
began
writhing
.
