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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 715/927
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"
Well
,
go
to
sleep
then
,
"
she
answered
,
disappointment
in
her
tones
.
Then
as
the
doctor
leaned
over
to
remove
his
boots
,
her
voice
spoke
from
the
darkness
with
renewed
cheerfulness
.
"
I
imagine
Dolly
has
gotten
it
all
out
of
old
man
Merriwether
and
she
can
tell
me
about
it
.
"
"
Good
Heavens
,
Mrs.
Meade
!
Do
you
mean
to
tell
me
that
nice
women
talk
about
such
things
among
them
--
"
"
Oh
,
go
to
bed
,
"
said
Mrs.
Meade
.
It
sleeted
the
next
day
,
but
as
the
wintry
twilight
drew
on
the
icy
particles
stopped
falling
and
a
cold
wind
blew
.
Wrapped
in
her
cloak
,
Melanie
went
bewilderedly
down
her
front
walk
behind
a
strange
negro
coachman
who
had
summoned
her
mysteriously
to
a
closed
carriage
waiting
in
front
of
the
house
.
As
she
came
up
to
the
carriage
the
door
was
opened
and
she
saw
a
woman
in
the
dim
interior
.
Leaning
closer
,
peering
inside
,
Melanie
questioned
:
"
Who
is
it
?
Wo
n't
you
come
in
the
house
?
It
's
so
cold
--
"
"
Please
come
in
here
and
set
with
me
a
minute
,
Miz
Wilkes
,
"
came
a
faintly
familiar
voice
,
an
embarrassed
voice
from
the
depths
of
the
carriage
.
"
Oh
,
you
're
Miss
--
Mrs.
--
Watling
!
"
cried
Melanie
.
"
I
did
so
want
to
see
you
!
You
must
come
in
the
house
.
"
"
I
ca
n't
do
that
,
Miz
Wilkes
.
"
Belle
Watling
's
voice
sounded
scandalized
.
"
You
come
in
here
and
set
a
minute
with
me
.
"
Melanie
entered
the
carriage
and
the
coachman
closed
the
door
behind
her
.
She
sat
down
beside
Belle
and
reached
for
her
hand
.
