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"
Do
n't
be
silly
,
I
wo
n't
look
at
you
,
"
said
Scarlett
.
"
If
I
had
on
a
petticoat
or
pantalets
I
'd
use
them
.
"
Crouching
back
against
the
wall
,
Melanie
pulled
the
ragged
linen
garment
over
her
head
and
silently
tossed
it
to
Scarlett
,
shielding
herself
as
best
she
could
with
her
arms
.
"
Thank
God
,
I
'm
not
that
modest
,
"
thought
Scarlett
,
feeling
rather
than
seeing
Melanie
's
agony
of
embarrassment
,
as
she
wrapped
the
ragged
cloth
about
the
shattered
face
.
By
a
series
of
limping
jerks
,
she
pulled
the
body
down
the
hall
toward
the
back
porch
and
,
pausing
to
wipe
her
forehead
with
the
back
of
her
hand
,
glanced
back
toward
Melanie
,
sitting
against
the
wall
hugging
her
thin
knees
to
her
bare
breasts
.
How
silly
of
Melanie
to
be
bothering
about
modesty
at
a
time
like
this
,
Scarlett
thought
irritably
.
It
was
just
part
of
her
nicey-nice
way
of
acting
which
had
always
made
Scarlett
despise
her
.
Then
shame
rose
in
her
.
After
all
--
after
all
,
Melanie
had
dragged
herself
from
bed
so
soon
after
having
a
baby
and
had
come
to
her
aid
with
a
weapon
too
heavy
even
for
her
to
lift
.
That
had
taken
courage
,
the
kind
of
courage
Scarlett
honestly
knew
she
herself
did
not
possess
,
the
thin-steel
,
spun-silk
courage
which
had
characterized
Melanie
on
the
terrible
night
Atlanta
fell
and
on
the
long
trip
home
.
It
was
the
same
intangible
,
unspectacular
courage
that
all
the
Wilkeses
possessed
,
a
quality
which
Scarlett
did
not
understand
but
to
which
she
gave
grudging
tribute
.
"
Go
back
to
bed
,
"
she
threw
over
her
shoulder
.
"
You
'll
be
dead
if
you
do
n't
.
I
'll
clean
up
the
mess
after
I
've
buried
him
.
"
"
I
'll
do
it
with
one
of
the
rag
rugs
,
"
whispered
Melanie
,
looking
at
the
pool
of
blood
with
a
sick
face
.
"
Well
,
kill
yourself
then
and
see
if
I
care
!
And
if
any
of
the
folks
come
back
before
I
'm
finished
,
keep
them
in
the
house
and
tell
them
the
horse
just
walked
in
from
nowhere
.
"
Melanie
sat
shivering
in
the
morning
sunlight
and
covered
her
ears
against
the
sickening
series
of
thuds
as
the
dead
man
's
head
bumped
down
the
porch
steps
.
No
one
questioned
whence
the
horse
had
come
.
It
was
so
obvious
he
was
a
stray
from
the
recent
battle
and
they
were
well
pleased
to
have
him
.
The
Yankee
lay
in
the
shallow
pit
Scarlett
had
scraped
out
under
the
scuppernong
arbor
.
The
uprights
which
held
the
thick
vines
were
rotten
and
that
night
Scarlett
hacked
at
them
with
the
kitchen
knife
until
they
fell
and
the
tangled
mass
ran
wild
over
the
grave
.
