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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 438/927
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"
If
I
want
to
talk
to
him
about
it
,
I
can
,
ca
n't
I
?
"
she
snapped
,
rising
to
her
feet
and
kicking
the
fragment
of
quilting
from
her
ankles
.
Will
did
not
take
offense
but
continued
rubbing
his
hands
before
the
flame
.
"
Better
get
your
shawl
,
Miss
Scarlett
.
It
's
raw
outside
.
"
But
she
went
without
the
shawl
,
for
it
was
upstairs
and
her
need
to
see
Ashley
and
lay
her
troubles
before
him
was
too
urgent
to
wait
.
How
lucky
for
her
if
she
could
find
him
alone
!
Never
once
since
his
return
had
she
had
a
private
word
with
him
.
Always
the
family
clustered
about
him
,
always
Melanie
was
by
his
side
,
touching
his
sleeve
now
and
again
to
reassure
herself
he
was
really
there
.
The
sight
of
that
happy
possessive
gesture
had
aroused
in
Scarlett
all
the
jealous
animosity
which
had
slumbered
during
the
months
when
she
had
thought
Ashley
probably
dead
.
Now
she
was
determined
to
see
him
alone
.
This
time
no
one
was
going
to
prevent
her
from
talking
with
him
alone
.
She
went
through
the
orchard
under
the
bare
boughs
and
the
damp
weeds
beneath
them
wet
her
feet
.
She
could
hear
the
sound
of
the
axe
ringing
as
Ashley
split
into
rails
the
logs
hauled
from
the
swamp
.
Replacing
the
fences
the
Yankees
had
so
blithely
burned
was
a
long
hard
task
.
Everything
was
a
long
hard
task
,
she
thought
wearily
,
and
she
was
tired
of
it
,
tired
and
mad
and
sick
of
it
all
.
If
only
Ashley
were
her
husband
,
instead
of
Melanie
's
,
how
sweet
it
would
be
to
go
to
him
and
lay
her
head
upon
his
shoulder
and
cry
and
shove
her
burdens
onto
him
to
work
out
as
best
he
might
.
She
rounded
a
thicket
of
pomegranate
trees
which
were
shaking
bare
limbs
in
the
cold
wind
and
saw
him
leaning
on
his
axe
,
wiping
his
forehead
with
the
back
of
his
hand
.
He
was
wearing
the
remains
of
his
butternut
trousers
and
one
of
Gerald
's
shirts
,
a
shirt
which
in
better
times
went
only
to
Court
days
and
barbecues
,
a
ruffled
shirt
which
was
far
too
short
for
its
present
owner
.
He
had
hung
his
coat
on
a
tree
limb
,
for
the
work
was
hot
,
and
he
stood
resting
as
she
came
up
to
him
.
At
the
sight
of
Ashley
in
rags
,
with
an
axe
in
his
hand
,
her
heart
went
out
in
a
surge
of
love
and
of
fury
at
fate
.
She
could
not
bear
to
see
him
in
tatters
,
working
,
her
debonaire
immaculate
Ashley
.
His
hands
were
not
made
for
work
or
his
body
for
anything
but
broadcloth
and
fine
linen
.
God
intended
him
to
sit
in
a
great
house
,
talking
with
pleasant
people
,
playing
the
piano
and
writing
things
which
sounded
beautiful
and
made
no
sense
whatsoever
.
She
could
endure
the
sight
of
her
own
child
in
aprons
made
of
sacking
and
the
girls
in
dingy
old
gingham
,
could
bear
it
that
Will
worked
harder
than
any
field
hand
,
but
not
Ashley
.
He
was
too
fine
for
all
this
,
too
infinitely
dear
to
her
.
She
would
rather
split
logs
herself
than
suffer
while
he
did
it
.
"
They
say
Abe
Lincoln
got
his
start
splitting
rails
,
"
he
said
as
she
came
up
to
him
.
"
Just
think
to
what
heights
I
may
climb
!
"
She
frowned
.
He
was
always
saying
light
things
like
this
about
their
hardships
.
They
were
deadly
serious
matters
to
her
and
sometimes
she
was
almost
irritated
at
his
remarks
.
