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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 401/927
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But
as
they
all
passed
from
the
room
,
Frank
hung
back
,
tugging
at
Scarlett
's
sleeve
.
"
May
I
speak
to
you
alone
?
"
For
an
awful
moment
she
feared
he
was
going
to
ask
about
her
livestock
and
she
braced
herself
for
a
good
lie
.
When
the
room
was
cleared
and
they
stood
by
the
fire
,
all
the
false
cheerfulness
which
had
colored
Frank
's
face
in
front
of
the
others
passed
and
she
saw
that
he
looked
like
an
old
man
.
His
face
was
as
dried
and
brown
as
the
leaves
that
were
blowing
about
the
lawn
of
Tara
and
his
ginger-colored
whiskers
were
thin
and
scraggly
and
streaked
with
gray
.
He
clawed
at
them
absently
and
cleared
his
throat
in
an
annoying
way
before
he
spoke
.
"
I
'm
sorry
about
your
ma
,
Miss
Scarlett
.
"
"
Please
do
n't
talk
about
it
.
"
"
And
your
pa
--
Has
he
been
this
way
since
--
?
"
"
Yes
--
he
's
--
he
's
not
himself
,
as
you
can
see
.
"
"
He
sure
set
a
store
by
her
.
"
"
Oh
,
Mr.
Kennedy
,
please
do
n't
let
's
talk
--
"
