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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 898/927
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He
opened
the
door
before
she
could
answer
,
pushed
her
into
the
room
and
closed
the
door
behind
her
.
The
little
room
,
cheaply
furnished
in
black
walnut
,
was
in
semidarkness
,
the
lamp
shaded
with
a
newspaper
.
It
was
as
small
and
prim
a
room
as
a
schoolgirl
's
,
the
narrow
little
low-backed
bed
,
the
plain
net
curtains
looped
back
,
the
clean
faded
rag
rugs
on
the
floor
,
were
so
different
from
the
lavishness
of
Scarlett
's
own
bedroom
with
its
towering
carved
furniture
,
pink
brocade
draperies
and
rose-strewn
carpet
.
Melanie
lay
in
the
bed
,
her
figure
under
the
counterpane
shrunken
and
flat
like
a
little
girl
's
.
Two
black
braids
fell
on
either
side
of
her
face
and
her
closed
eyes
were
sunken
in
twin
purple
circles
.
At
the
sight
of
her
Scarlett
stood
transfixed
,
leaning
against
the
door
.
Despite
the
gloom
of
the
room
,
she
could
see
that
Melanie
's
face
was
of
a
waxy
yellow
color
.
It
was
drained
of
life
's
blood
and
there
was
a
pinched
look
about
the
nose
.
Until
that
moment
,
Scarlett
had
hoped
Dr.
Meade
was
mistaken
.
But
now
she
knew
.
In
the
hospitals
during
the
war
she
had
seen
too
many
faces
wearing
this
pinched
look
not
to
know
what
it
inevitably
presaged
.
Melanie
was
dying
,
but
for
a
moment
Scarlett
's
mind
refused
to
take
it
in
.
Melanie
could
not
die
.
It
was
impossible
for
her
to
die
.
God
would
n't
let
her
die
when
she
,
Scarlett
,
needed
her
so
much
.
Never
before
had
it
occurred
to
her
that
she
needed
Melanie
.
But
now
,
the
truth
surged
in
,
down
to
the
deepest
recesses
of
her
soul
.
She
had
relied
on
Melanie
,
even
as
she
had
relied
upon
herself
,
and
she
had
never
known
it
.
Now
,
Melanie
was
dying
and
Scarlett
knew
she
could
not
get
along
without
her
.
Now
,
as
she
tiptoed
across
the
room
toward
the
quiet
figure
,
panic
clutching
at
her
heart
,
she
knew
that
Melanie
had
been
her
sword
and
her
shield
,
her
comfort
and
her
strength
.
"
I
must
hold
her
!
I
ca
n't
let
her
get
away
!
"
she
thought
and
sank
beside
the
bed
with
a
rustle
of
skirts
.
Hastily
she
grasped
the
limp
hand
lying
on
the
coverlet
and
was
frightened
anew
by
its
chill
.
"
It
's
me
,
Melly
,
"
she
said
.
Melanie
's
eyes
opened
a
slit
and
then
,
as
if
having
satisfied
herself
that
it
was
really
Scarlett
,
she
closed
them
again
.
After
a
pause
she
drew
a
breath
and
whispered
:
"
Promise
me
?
"
"
Oh
,
anything
!
"
"
Beau
--
look
after
him
.
"
Scarlett
could
only
nod
,
a
strangled
feeling
in
her
throat
,
and
she
gently
pressed
the
hand
she
held
by
way
of
assent
.
