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- Маргарет Митчелл
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- Стр. 905/927
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He
made
no
move
to
her
but
stared
,
gripping
the
glove
tightly
in
both
hands
.
She
put
a
hand
on
his
arm
and
whispered
:
"
What
is
it
?
"
His
eyes
searched
her
intently
,
hunting
,
hunting
desperately
for
something
he
did
not
find
.
Finally
he
spoke
and
his
voice
was
not
his
own
.
"
I
was
wanting
you
,
"
he
said
.
"
I
was
going
to
run
and
find
you
--
run
like
a
child
wanting
comfort
--
and
I
find
a
child
,
more
frightened
,
running
to
me
.
"
"
Not
you
--
you
ca
n't
be
frightened
,
"
she
cried
.
"
Nothing
has
ever
frightened
you
.
But
I
--
You
've
always
been
so
strong
--
"
"
If
I
've
ever
been
strong
,
it
was
because
she
was
behind
me
,
"
he
said
,
his
voice
breaking
,
and
he
looked
down
at
the
glove
and
smoothed
the
fingers
.
"
And
--
and
--
all
the
strength
I
ever
had
is
going
with
her
.
"
There
was
such
a
note
of
wild
despair
in
his
low
voice
that
she
dropped
her
hand
from
his
arm
and
stepped
back
.
And
in
the
heavy
silence
that
fell
between
them
,
she
felt
that
she
really
understood
him
for
the
first
time
in
her
life
.
"
Why
--
"
she
said
slowly
,
"
why
,
Ashley
,
you
love
her
,
do
n't
you
?
"
He
spoke
as
with
an
effort
.
"
She
is
the
only
dream
I
ever
had
that
lived
and
breathed
and
did
not
die
in
the
face
of
reality
.
"
