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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 475/927
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No
one
,
looking
at
her
now
,
would
suspect
that
poverty
and
want
were
standing
at
her
shoulder
.
It
was
so
important
that
Rhett
should
not
suspect
.
He
must
not
think
that
anything
but
tender
feelings
were
driving
her
.
She
tiptoed
down
the
stairs
and
out
of
the
house
while
Cookie
bawled
on
unconcernedly
in
the
kitchen
.
She
hastened
down
Baker
Street
to
avoid
the
all
seeing
eyes
of
the
neighbors
and
sat
down
on
a
carriage
block
on
Ivy
Street
in
front
of
a
burned
house
,
to
wait
for
some
passing
carriage
or
wagon
which
would
give
her
a
ride
.
The
sun
dipped
in
and
out
from
behind
hurrying
clouds
,
lighting
the
street
with
a
false
brightness
which
had
no
warmth
in
it
,
and
the
wind
fluttered
the
lace
of
her
pantalets
.
It
was
colder
than
she
had
expected
and
she
wrapped
Aunt
Pitty
's
thin
cloak
about
her
and
shivered
impatiently
.
Just
as
she
was
preparing
to
start
walking
the
long
way
across
town
to
the
Yankee
encampment
,
a
battered
wagon
appeared
.
In
it
was
an
old
woman
with
a
lip
full
of
snuff
and
a
weather-beaten
face
under
a
drab
sunbonnet
,
driving
a
dawdling
old
mule
.
She
was
going
in
the
direction
of
the
city
hall
and
she
grudgingly
gave
Scarlett
a
ride
.
But
it
was
obvious
that
the
dress
,
bonnet
and
muff
found
no
favor
with
her
.
"
She
thinks
I
'm
a
hussy
,
"
thought
Scarlett
.
"
And
perhaps
she
's
right
at
that
!
"
When
at
last
they
reached
the
town
square
and
the
tall
white
cupola
of
the
city
hall
loomed
up
,
she
made
her
thanks
,
climbed
down
from
the
wagon
and
watched
the
country
woman
drive
off
.
Looking
around
carefully
to
see
that
she
was
not
observed
,
she
pinched
her
cheeks
to
give
them
color
and
bit
her
lips
until
they
stung
to
make
them
red
.
She
adjusted
the
bonnet
and
smoothed
back
her
hair
and
looked
about
the
square
.
The
two-story
red-brick
city
hall
had
survived
the
burning
of
the
city
.
But
it
looked
forlorn
and
unkempt
under
the
gray
sky
.
Surrounding
the
building
completely
and
covering
the
square
of
land
of
which
it
was
the
center
were
row
after
row
of
army
huts
,
dingy
and
mud
splashed
.
Yankee
soldiers
loitered
everywhere
and
Scarlett
looked
at
them
uncertainly
,
some
of
her
courage
deserting
her
.
How
would
she
go
about
finding
Rhett
in
this
enemy
camp
?
She
looked
down
the
street
toward
the
firehouse
and
saw
that
the
wide
arched
doors
were
closed
and
heavily
barred
and
two
sentries
passed
and
repassed
on
each
side
of
the
building
.
Rhett
was
in
there
.
But
what
should
she
say
to
the
Yankee
soldiers
?
And
what
would
they
say
to
her
?
She
squared
her
shoulders
.
If
she
had
n't
been
afraid
to
kill
one
Yankee
,
she
should
n't
fear
merely
talking
to
another
.
She
picked
her
way
precariously
across
the
stepping
stones
of
the
muddy
street
and
walked
forward
until
a
sentry
,
his
blue
overcoat
buttoned
high
against
the
wind
,
stopped
her
.
"
What
is
it
,
Ma
'm
?
"
His
voice
had
a
strange
mid-Western
twang
but
it
was
polite
and
respectful
.
"
I
want
to
see
a
man
in
there
--
he
is
a
prisoner
.
"
