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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 881/927
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"
They
are
like
Pa
's
eyes
,
"
thought
Scarlett
,
"
Irish
blue
eyes
and
she
's
just
like
him
in
every
way
.
"
And
,
as
she
thought
of
Gerald
,
the
memory
for
which
she
had
been
fumbling
came
to
her
swiftly
,
came
with
the
heart
stopping
clarity
of
summer
lightning
,
throwing
,
for
an
instant
,
a
whole
countryside
into
unnatural
brightness
.
She
could
hear
an
Irish
voice
singing
,
hear
the
hard
rapid
pounding
of
hooves
coming
up
the
pasture
hill
at
Tara
,
hear
a
reckless
voice
,
so
like
the
voice
of
her
child
:
"
Ellen
!
Watch
me
take
this
one
!
"
"
No
!
"
she
cried
.
"
No
!
Oh
,
Bonnie
,
stop
!
"
Even
as
she
leaned
from
the
window
there
was
a
fearful
sound
of
splintering
wood
,
a
hoarse
cry
from
Rhett
,
a
melee
of
blue
velvet
and
flying
hooves
on
the
ground
.
Then
Mr.
Butler
scrambled
to
his
feet
and
trotted
off
with
an
empty
saddle
.
On
the
third
night
after
Bonnie
's
death
,
Mammy
waddled
slowly
up
the
kitchen
steps
of
Melanie
's
house
.
She
was
dressed
in
black
from
her
huge
men
's
shoes
,
slashed
to
permit
freedom
for
her
toes
,
to
her
black
head
rag
.
Her
blurred
old
eyes
were
bloodshot
and
red
rimmed
,
and
misery
cried
out
in
every
line
of
her
mountainous
figure
.
Her
face
was
puckered
in
the
sad
bewilderment
of
an
old
ape
but
there
was
determination
in
her
jaw
.
She
spoke
a
few
soft
words
to
Dilcey
who
nodded
kindly
,
as
though
an
unspoken
armistice
existed
in
their
old
feud
.
Dilcey
put
down
the
supper
dishes
she
was
holding
and
went
quietly
through
the
pantry
toward
the
dining
room
.
In
a
minute
Melanie
was
in
the
kitchen
,
her
table
napkin
in
her
hand
,
anxiety
in
her
face
.
"
Miss
Scarlet
is
n't
--
"
"
Miss
Scarlett
bearin
'
up
,
same
as
allus
,
"
said
Mammy
heavily
.
"
Ah
din
'
ten
ter
'
sturb
yo
'
supper
,
Miss
Melly
.
Ah
kin
wait
tell
you
thoo
ter
tell
you
whut
Ah
got
on
mah
mine
.
"
"
Supper
can
wait
,
"
said
Melanie
.
"
Dilcey
,
serve
the
rest
of
the
supper
.
Mammy
,
come
with
me
.
"
