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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 435/927
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"
Oh
,
damn
the
Yankees
!
"
she
cried
.
"
Is
n't
it
enough
that
they
've
licked
us
and
beggared
us
without
turning
loose
scoundrels
on
us
?
"
The
war
was
over
,
peace
had
been
declared
,
but
the
Yankees
could
still
rob
her
,
they
could
still
starve
her
,
they
could
still
drive
her
from
her
house
.
And
fool
that
she
was
,
she
had
thought
through
weary
months
that
if
she
could
just
hold
out
until
spring
,
everything
would
be
all
right
.
This
crushing
news
brought
by
Will
,
coming
on
top
of
a
year
of
back-breaking
work
and
hope
deferred
,
was
the
last
straw
.
"
Oh
,
Will
,
and
I
thought
our
troubles
were
all
over
when
the
war
ended
!
"
"
No
'm
.
Will
raised
his
lantern-jawed
,
country-looking
face
and
gave
her
a
long
steady
look
.
"
Our
troubles
are
just
gettin
'
started
.
"
"
How
much
extra
taxes
do
they
want
us
to
pay
?
"
"
Three
hundred
dollars
.
"
She
was
struck
dumb
for
a
moment
.
Three
hundred
dollars
!
It
might
just
as
well
be
three
million
dollars
.
"
Why
,
"
she
floundered
,
"
why
--
why
,
then
we
've
got
to
raise
three
hundred
,
somehow
.
"
"
Yes
'm
--
and
a
rainbow
and
a
moon
or
two
.
"
