it was ashley’s birthday and melanie was giving him a surprise reception that night. everyoneknew about the reception, except ashley. even wade and little beau knew and were sworn tosecrecy that puffed them up with pride. everyone in atlanta who was nice had been invited andwas coming. general gordon and his family had graciously accepted, alexander stephens wouldbe present if his ever-uncertain health permitted and even bob toombs, the stormy petrel of theconfederacy, was expected.
all that morning, scarlett, with melanie, india and aunt pitty flew about the little house,directing the negroes as they hung freshly laundered curtains, polished silver, waxed the floor andcooked, stirred and tasted the refreshments. scarlett had never seen melanie so excited or sohappy.
“you see, dear, ashley hasn’t had a birthday party since—since, you remember the barbecue attwelve oaks? the day we heard about mr. lincoln’s call for volunteers? well, he hasn’t had abirthday party since then. and he works so hard and he’s so tired when he gets home at night thathe really hasn’t thought about today being his birthday. and won’t he be surprised after supperwhen everybody troops in!”
“how you goin’ to manage them lanterns on the lawn without mr. wilkes seein’ them when hecomes home to supper?” demanded archie grumpily.
he had sat all morning watching the preparations, interested but unwilling to admit it. he hadnever been behind the scenes at a large town folks’ party and it was a new experience. he madefrank remarks about women running around like the house was afire, just because they were having company, but wild horses could not have dragged him from the scene. the colored-paperlanterns which mrs. elsing and fanny had made and painted for the occasion held a special interestfor him, as he had never seen “sech contraptions” before. they had been hidden in his room in thecellar and he had examined them minutely.
“mercy! i hadn’t thought of that!” cried melanie. “archie, how fortunate that you mentioned it.
dear, dear! what shall i do? they’ve got to be strung on the bushes and trees and little candles putin them and lighted just at the proper time when the guests are arriving. scarlett, can you send porkdown to do it while we’re eating supper?”
“miz wilkes, you got more sense than most women but you gits flurried right easy,” said archie.
“and as for that fool nigger, pork, he ain’t got no bizness with them thar contraptions. he’d setthem afire in no time. they are—right pretty,” he conceded. “i’ll hang them for you, whilst youand mr. wilkes are eatin’.”
“oh, archie, how kind of you!” melanie turned childlike eyes of gratitude and dependence uponhim. “i don’t know what i should do without you. do you suppose you could go put the candles inthem now, so we’d have that much out of the way?”
“well, i could, p’raps,” said archie ungraciously and stumped off toward the cellar stairs.
“there’s more ways of killing a cat than choking him to death with butter,” giggled melaniewhen the whiskered old man had thumped down the stairs. “i had intended all along for archie toput up those lanterns but you know how he is. he won’t do a thing if you ask him to. and nowwe’ve got him out from underfoot for a while. the darkies are so scared of him they just won’t doany work when he’s around, breathing down their necks.”
“melly, i wouldn’t have that old desperado in my house,” said scarlett crossly. she hated archieas much as he hated her and they barely spoke. melanie’s was the only house in which he wouldremain if she were present. and even in melanie’s house, he stared at her with suspicion and coldcontempt. “he’ll cause you trouble, mark my words.”
“oh, he’s harmless if you flatter him and act like you depend on him,” said melanie. “and he’sso devoted to ashley and beau that i always feel safe having him around.”
“you mean he’s so devoted to you, melly,” said india, her cold face relaxing into a faintly warmsmile as her gaze rested fondly on her sister-in-law. “i believe you’re the first person that oldruffian has loved since his wife—er—since his wife. i think he’d really like for somebody to insultyou, so he could kill them to show his respect for you.”
“mercy! how you run on, india!” said melanie blushing. “he thinks i’m a terrible goose andyou know it.”
“well, i don’t see that what that smelly old hillbilly thinks is of any importance,” said scarlettabruptly. the very thought of how archie had sat in judgment upon her about the convicts alwaysenraged her. “i have to go now. i’ve got to go get dinner and then go by the store and pay off theclerks and go by the lumber yard and pay the drivers and hugh elsing.”
“oh, are you going to the lumber yard?” asked melanie. “ashley is coming in to the yard in thelate afternoon to see hugh. can you possibly hold him there till five o’clock? if he comes home earlier he’ll be sure to catch us finishing up a cake or something and then he won’t be surprised atall.”
scarlett smiled inwardly, good temper restored.
“yes, i’ll hold him,” she said.
as she spoke, india’s pale lashless eyes met hers piercingly. she always looks at me so oddlywhen i speak of ashley, thought scarlett.
“well, hold him there as long as you can after five o’clock,” said melanie. “and then india willdrive down and pick him up. ... scarlett, do come early tonight. i don’t want you to miss a minuteof the reception.”
as scarlett rode home she thought sullenly: “she doesn’t want me to miss a minute of thereception, eh? well then, why didn’t she invite me to receive with her and india and aunt pitty?”
generally, scarlett would not have cared whether she received at melly’s piddling parties or not.
but this was the largest party melanie had ever given and ashley’s birthday party too, and scarlettlonged to stand by ash-ley’s side and receive with him. but she knew why she had not beeninvited to receive. even had she not known it, rhett’s comment on the subject had been frankenough.
“a scalawag receive when all die prominent ex-confederates and democrats are going to bethere? your notions are as enchanting as they are muddle headed. it’s only because of miss melly’sloyalty that you are invited at all.”
scarlett dressed with more than usual care that afternoon for her trip to the store and the lumberyard, wearing the new dull-green changeable taffeta frock that looked lilac in some lights and thenew pale-green bonnet, circled about with dark-green plumes. if only rhett would let her cut bangsand frizzle them on her forehead, how much better this bonnet would look! but he had declaredthat he would shave her whole head if she banged her forelocks. and these days he acted soatrociously he really might do it.
it was a lovely afternoon, sunny but not too hot, bright but not glaring, and the warm breeze thatrustled the trees along peachtree street made the plumes on scarlett’s bonnet dance. her heartdanced too, as always when she was going to see ashley. perhaps, if she paid off the team driversand hugh early, they would go home and leave her and ashley alone in the square little office inthe middle of the lumber yard. chances to see ashley alone were all too infrequent these days. andto think that melanie had asked her to hold him! that was funny!
her heart was merry when she reached the store, and she paid off willie and the other counterboys without even asking what the day’s business had been. it was saturday, the biggest day of theweek for the store, for all the farmers came to town to shop that day, but she asked no questions.
along the way to the lumber yard she stopped a dozen times to speak with carpetbagger ladiesin splendid equipages—not so splendid as her own, she thought with pleasure—and with manymen who came through the red dust of the street to stand hat in hand and compliment her. it was abeautiful afternoon, she was happy, she looked pretty and her progress was a royal one. because ofthese delays she arrived at the lumber yard later than she intended and found hugh and the team drivers sitting on a low pile of lumber waiting for her.
“is ashley here?”
“yes, he’s in the office,” said hugh, the habitually worried expression leaving his face at thesight of her happy, dancing eyes. “he’s trying to—i mean, he’s going over the books.”
“oh, he needn’t bother about that today,” she said and then lowering her voice: “melly sent medown to keep him here till they get the house straight for the reception tonight.”
hugh smiled for he was going to the reception. he liked parties and he guessed scarlett did toofrom the way she looked this afternoon. she paid off the teamsters and hugh and, abruptly leavingthem, walked toward the office, showing plainly by her manner that she did not care to beaccompanied. ashley met her at the door and stood in the afternoon sunshine, his hair bright andon his lips a little smile that was almost a grin.
“why, scarlett, what are you doing downtown this time of the day? why aren’t you out at myhouse helping melly get ready for the surprise party?”
“why, ashley wilkes!” she cried indignantly. “you weren’t supposed to know a thing about it.
melly will be so disappointed if you aren’t surprised.”
“oh, i won’t let on. i’ll be the most surprised man in atlanta,” said ashley, his eyes laughing.
“now, who was mean enough to tell you?”
“practically every man melly invited. general gordon was the first. he said it had been hisexperience that when women gave surprise parties they usually gave them on the very nights menhad decided to polish and clean all the guns in the house. and then grandpa merriwether warnedme. he said mrs. merriwether gave him a surprise party once and she was the most surprisedperson there, because grandpa had been treating his rheumatism, on the sly, with a bottle ofwhisky and he was too drunk to get out of bed and—oh, every man who’s ever had a surprise partygiven him told me.”
“the mean things!” cried scarlett but she had to smile.
he looked like the old ashley she knew at twelve oaks when he smiled like this. and he smiledso seldom these days. the air was so soft, the sun so gentle, ashley’s face so gay, his talk sounconstrained that her heart leaped with happiness. it swelled in her bosom until it positivelyached with pleasure, ached as with a burden of joyful, hot, unshed tears. suddenly she felt sixteenagain and happy, a little breathless and excited. she had a mad impulse to snatch off her bonnetand toss it into the air and cry “hurray!” then she thought how startled ashley would be if she didthis, and she suddenly laughed, laughed until tears came to her eyes. he laughed, too, throwingback his head as though he enjoyed laughter, thinking her mirth came from the friendly treacheryof the men who had given melly’s secret away.
“come in, scarlett. i’m going over the books.”
she passed into the small room, blazing with the afternoon sun, and sat down in the chair beforethe roll-topped desk. ashley, following her, seated himself on the corner of the rough table, hislong legs dangling easily.
“oh, don’t let’s fool with any books this afternoon, ashley! i just can’t be bothered. when i’mwearing a new bonnet, it seems like all the figures i know leave my head.”
“figures are well lost when the bonnet’s as pretty as that one,” he said. “scarlett, you get prettierall the time!”
he slipped from the table and, laughing, took her hands, spreading them wide so he could seeher dress. “you are so pretty! i don’t believe you’ll ever get old!”
at his touch she realized that, without being conscious of it, she had hoped that just this thingwould happen. all this happy afternoon, she had hoped for the warmth of his hands, the tendernessof his eyes, a word that would show he cared. this was the first time they had been utterly alonesince the cold day in the orchard at tara, the first time their hands had met in any but formalgestures, and through the long months she had hungered for closer contact. but now—how odd that the touch of his hands did not excite her! once his very nearness would have sether a-tremble. now she felt a curious warm friendliness and content. no fever leaped from hishands to hers and in his hands her heart hushed to happy quietness. this puzzled her, made her alittle disconcerted. he was still her ashley, still her bright, shining darling and she loved him betterthan life. then why—but she pushed the thought from her mind. it was enough that she was with him and he washolding her hands and smiling, completely friendly, without strain or fever. it seemed miraculousthat this could be when she thought of all the unsaid things that lay between them. his eyes lookedinto hers, clear and shining, smiling in the old way she loved, smiling as though there had neverbeen anything between them but happiness. there was no barrier between his eyes and hers now,no baffling remoteness. she laughed.
“oh, ashley, i’m getting old and decrepit.”
“ah, that’s very apparent! no, scarlett, when you are sixty, you’ll look the same to me. i’llalways remember you as you were that day of our last barbecue, sitting under an oak with a dozenboys around you. i can even tell you just how you were dressed, in a white dress covered with tinygreen flowers and a white lace shawl about your shoulders. you had on little green slippers withblack lacings and an enormous leghorn hat with long green streamers. i know that dress by heartbecause when i was in prison and things got too bad, i’d take out my memories and thumb themover like pictures, recalling every little detail—”
he stopped abruptly and the eager light faded from his face. he dropped her hands gently andshe sat waiting, waiting for his next words.
“we’ve come a long way, both of us, since that day, haven’t we, scarlett? we’ve traveled roadswe never expected to travel. you’ve come swiftly, directly, and i, slowly and reluctantly.”
he sat down on the table again and looked at her and a small smile crept back into his face. butit was not the smile that had made her so happy so short a while before. it was a bleak smile.
“yes, you came swiftly, dragging me at your chariot wheels. scarlett, sometimes i have animpersonal curiosity as to what would have happened to me without you.”
scarlett went quickly to defend him from himself, more quickly because treacherously there rose to her mind rhett’s words on this same subject,“but i’ve never done anything for you, ashley. without me, you’d have been just the same.
some day, you’d have been a rich man, a great man like you are going to be.”
“no, scarlett, the seeds of greatness were never in me. i think that if it hadn’t been for you, i’dhave gone down into oblivion—like poor cathleen calvert and so many other people who oncehad great names, old names.”
“oh, ashley, don’t talk like that. you sound so sad.”
“no, i’m not sad. not any longer. once—once i was sad. now, i’m only—”
he stopped and suddenly she knew what he was thinking. it was the first time she had everknown what ashley was thinking when his eyes went past her, crystal clear, absent when the furyof love had beaten in her heart, his mind had been closed to her. now, in the quiet friendliness thatlay between them, she could walk a little way into his mind, understand a little. he was not sad anylonger. he had been sad after the surrender, sad when she begged him to come to atlanta. now, hewas only resigned.
“i hate to hear you talk like that, ashley,” she said vehemently. “you sound just like rhett. he’salways harping on things like that and something he calls the survival of the fitting till i’m sobored i could scream.”
ashley smiled.
“did you ever stop to think, scarlett, that rhett and i are fundamentally alike?”
“oh, no! you are so fine, so honorable and he—” she broke off, confused.
“but we are. we came of the same kind of people, we were raised in the same pattern, broughtup to think the same things. and somewhere along the road we took different turnings. we stillthink alike but we react differently. as, for instance, neither of us believed in the war but i enlistedand fought and he stayed out till nearly the end. we both knew the war was all wrong. we bothknew it was a losing fight, i was willing to fight a losing fight. he wasn’t. sometimes i think hewas right and then, again—”
“oh, ashley, when will you stop seeing both sides of questions?” she asked. but she did notspeak impatiently as she once would have done. “no one ever gets anywhere seeing both sides.”
“that’s true but—scarlett, just where do you want to get? i’ve often wondered. you see, i neverwanted to get anywhere at all. i’ve only wanted to be myself.”
where did she want to get? that was a silly question. money and security, of course. and yet—her mind fumbled. she had money and as much security as one could hope for in an insecureworld. but, now that she thought about it, they weren’t quite enough. now that she thought aboutit, they hadn’t made her particularly happy, though they made her less harried, less fearful of themorrow. if i’d had money and security and you, that would have been where i wanted to get, shethought, looking at him yearningly. but she did not speak the words, fearful of breaking the spellthat lay between them, fearful that his mind would close against her.
“you only want to be yourself?” she laughed, a little ruefully. “not being myself has always been my hardest trouble! as to where i want to get, well, i guess i’ve gotten there. i wanted to berich and safe and—”
“but, scarlett, did it ever occur to you that i don’t care whether i’m rich or not?”
no, it had never occurred to her that anyone would not want to be rich.
“then, what do you want?”
“i don’t know, now. i knew once but i’ve half forgotten. mostly to be left alone, not to beharried by people i don’t like, driven to do things i don’t want to do. perhaps—i want the old daysback again and they’ll never come back, and i am haunted by the memory of them and of theworld falling about my ears.”
scarlett set her mouth obstinately. it was not that she did not know what he meant. the verytones of his voice called up other days as nothing else could, made her heart hurt suddenly, as shetoo remembered. but since the day she had lain sick and desolate in the garden at twelve oaks andsaid: “i won’t look back,” she had set her face against the past.
“i like these days better,” she said. but she did not meet his eyes as she spoke. “there’s alwayssomething exciting happening now, parties and so on. everything’s got a glitter to it. the old dayswere so dull.” (oh, lazy days and warm still country twilights! the high soft laughter from thequarters! the golden warmth life had then and the comforting knowledge of what all tomorrowswould bring! how can i deny you?)“i like these days better,” she said but her voice was tremulous.
he slipped from the table, laughing softly in unbelief. putting his hand under her chin, he turnedher face up to his.
“ah, scarlett, what a poor liar you are! yes, life has a glitter now—of a sort that’s what’s wrongwith it. the old days had no glitter but they had a charm, a beauty, a slow-paced glamour.”
her mind pulled two ways, she dropped her eyes. the sound of his voice, the touch of his handwere softly unlocking doors that she had locked forever. behind those doors lay the beauty of theold days, and a sad hunger for them welled up within her. but she knew that no matter what beautylay behind, it must remain there. no one could go forward with a load of aching memories.
his hand dropped from her chin and he took one of her hands between his two and held itgently.
“do you remember,” he said—and a warning bell in her mind rang: don’t look back! don’t lookback!
but she swiftly disregarded it, swept forward tide of happiness. at last she was understandinghim,atlasttheirmindshadmet.thismom(on) en(a) t was too precious to be lost, no matterwhat pain came after.
“do you remember,” he said and under the spell of his voice the bare walls of the’little officefaded and the years rolled aside and they were riding country bridle paths together in a long-gonespring. as he spoke, his light grip tightened on her hand and in his voice was the sad magic of oldhalf-forgotten songs. she could hear the gay jingle of bridle bits as they rode under the dogwood trees to the tarletons’ picnic, hear her own careless laughter, see the sun glinting on his silver-gilthair and note the proud easy grace with which he sat his horse. there was music in his voice, themusic of fiddles and banjos to which they had danced in the white house that was no more. therewas the far-off yelping of possum dogs in the dark swamp under cool autumn moons and the smellof eggnog bowls, wreathed with holly at christmas time and smiles on black and white faces. andold friends came trooping back, laughing as though they had not been dead these many years:
stuart and brent with their long legs and their red hair and their practical jokes, tom and boyd aswild as young horses, joe fontaine with his hot black eyes, and cade and raiford calvert whomoved with such languid grace. there was john wilkes, too; and gerald, red with brandy; and awhisper and a fragrance that was ellen. over it all rested a sense of security, a knowledge that tomorrowcould only bring the same happiness today had brought.
his voice stopped and they looked for a long quiet moment into each other’s eyes and betweenthem lay the sunny lost youth that they had so unthinkingly shared.
“now i know why you can’t be happy,” she thought sadly. “i never understood before. i neverunderstood before why i wasn’t altogether happy either. but—why, we are talking like old peopletalk!” she thought with dreary surprise. “old people looking back fifty years. and we’re not old!
it’s just that so much has happened in between. everything’s changed so much that it seems likefifty years ago. but we’re not old!”
but when she looked at ashley he was no longer young and shining. his head was bowed as helooked down absently at her hand which he still held and she saw that his once bright hair was verygray, silver gray as moonlight on still water. somehow the bright beauty had gone from the aprilafternoon and from her heart as well and the sad sweetness of remembering was as bitter as gall.
“i shouldn’t have let him make me look back,” she thought despairingly. “i was right when isaid i’d never look back. it hurts too much, it drags at your heart till you can’t ever do anythingelse except look back. that’s what’s wrong with ashley. he can’t look forward any more. he can’tsee the present, he fears the future, and so he looks back. i never understood it before. i neverunderstood ashley before. oh, ashley, my darling, you shouldn’t look back! what good will it do?
i shouldn’t have let you tempt me into talking of the old days. this is what happens when you lookback to happiness, this pain, this heartbreak, this discontent.”
she rose to her feet, her hand still in his. she must go. she could not stay and think of the olddays and see his face, tired and sad and bleak as it now was.
“we’ve come a long way since those days, ashley,” she said, trying to steady her voice, tryingto fight the constriction in her throat. “we had fine notions then, didn’t we?” and then, with a rush,“oh, ashley, nothing has turned out as we expected!”
“it never does,” he said. “life’s under no obligation to give us what we expect. we take what weget and are thankful it’s no worse than it is.”
her heart was suddenly dull with pain, with weariness, as she thought of the long road she hadcome since those days. there rose up in her mind the memory of scarlett o’hara who loved beauxand pretty dresses and who intended, some day, when she had the time, to be a great lady likeellen.
without warning, tears started in her eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks and she stoodlooking at him dumbly, like a hurt bewildered child. he said no word but took her gently in hisarms, pressed her head against his shoulder and, leaning down, laid his cheek against hers. sherelaxed against him and her arms went round his body. the comfort of his arms helped dry hersudden tears. ah, it was good to be in his arms, without passion, without tenseness, to be there as aloved friend. only ashley who shared her memories and her youth, who knew her beginnings andher present could understand.
she heard the sound of feet outside but paid little heed, thinking it was the teamsters goinghome. she stood for a moment, listening to the slow beat of ashley’s heart. then suddenly hewrenched himself from her, confusing her by his violence. she looked up into his face in surprisebut he was not looking at her. he was looking over her shoulder at the door.
she turned and there stood india, white faced, her pale eyes blazing, and archie, malevolent as aone-eyed parrot. behind them stood mrs. elsing.
how she got out of the office she never remembered. but she went instantly, swiftly, byashley’s order, leaving ashley and archie in grim converse in the little room and india and mrs.
elsing outside with their backs to her. shame and fear sped her homeward and, in her mind, archiewith his patriarch’s beard assumed the proportions of an avenging angel straight from the pages ofthe old testament.
the house was empty and still in the april sunset. all the servants had gone to a funeral and thechildren were playing in melanie’s back yard. melanie—melanie! scarlett went cold at the thought of her as she climbed the stairs to her room. melaniewould hear of this. india had said she would tell her. oh, india would glory in telling her, notcaring if she blackened ashley’s name, not caring if she hurt melanie, if by so doing she couldinjure scarlett! and mrs. elsing would talk too, even though she had really seen nothing, becauseshe was behind india and archie in the door of the lumber office. but she would talk, just thesame. the news would be all over town by supper time. everyone, even the negroes, would knowby tomorrow’s breakfast. at the party tonight, women would gather in corners and whisperdiscreetly and with malicious pleasure. scarlett butler rumbled from her high and mighty place!
and the story would grow and grow. there was no way of stopping it. it wouldn’t stop at the barefacts, that ashley was holding her in his arms while she cried. before nightfall people would besaying she had been taken in adultery. and it had been so innocent, so sweet! scarlett thoughtwildly: if we had been caught that christmas of his furlough when i kissed him good-by—if wehad been caught in the orchard at tara when i begged him to run away with me—oh, if we’d beencaught any of the times when we were really guilty, it wouldn’t be so bad! but now! now! when iwent to his arms as a friend—but no one would believe that. she wouldn’t have a single friend to take her part, not a singlevoice would be raised to say: “i don’t believe she was doing anything wrong.” she had outragedold friends too long to find a champion among them now. her new friends, suffering in silenceunder her insolences, would welcome a chance to blackguard her. no, everybody would believeanything about her, though they might regret that so fine a man as ashley wilkes was mixed up in so dirty an affair. as usual they would cast the blame upon the woman and shrug at the man’s guilt.
and in this case they would be right. she had gone into his arms.
oh, she could stand the cuts, the slights, the covert smiles, anything the town might say, if shehad to stand them—but not melanie! oh, not melanie! she did not know why she should mindmelanie knowing, more than anyone else. she was too frightened and weighed down by a sense ofpast guilt to try to understand it. but she burst into tears at the thought of what would be inmelanie’s eyes when india told her that she had caught ashley fondling scarlett. and what wouldmelanie do when she knew? leave ashley? what else could she do, with any dignity? and whatwill ashley and i do then? she thought frenziedly, the tears streaming down her face. oh, ashleywill die of shame and hate me for bringing this on him. suddenly her tears stopped short as adeadly fear went through her heart. what of rhett? what would he do?
perhaps he’d never know. what was that old saying, that cynical saying? “the husband isalways the last to find out.” perhaps no one would tell him. it would take a brave man to breaksuch news to rhett, for rhett had the reputation for shooting first and asking questions afterwards.
please, god, don’t let anybody be brave enough to tell him! but she remembered the face ofarchie in the lumber office, the cold, pale eye, remorseless, full of hate for her and all women.
archie feared neither god nor man and he hated loose women. he had hated them enough to killone. and he had said he would tell rhett. and he’d tell him in spite of all ashley could do to dissuadehim. unless ashley killed him, archie would tell rhett, feeling it his christian duty.
she pulled off her clothes and lay down on the bed, her mind whirling round and round. if shecould only lock her door and stay in this safe place forever and ever and never see anyone again.
perhaps rhett wouldn’t find out tonight. she’d say she had a headache and didn’t feel like going tothe reception. by morning she would have thought up some excuse to offer, some defense thatmight hold water.
“i won’t think of it now,” she said desperately, burying her face in the pillow. “i won’t think of itnow. i’ll think of it later when i can stand it.”
she heard the servants come back as night fell and it seemed to her that they were very silent asthey moved about preparing supper. or was it her guilty conscience? mammy came to the door andknocked but scarlett sent her away, saying she did not want any supper. time passed and finallyshe heard rhett coming up the steps. she held herself tensely as he reached the upper hall,gathered all her strength for a meeting but he passed into his room. she breathed easier. he hadn’theard. thank god, he still respected her icy request that he never put foot in her bedroom again,for if he saw her now, her face would give her away. she must gather herself together enough totell him that she felt too ill to go to the reception. well, there was time enough for her to calmherself. or was there time? since the awful moment that afternoon, life had seemed timeless. sheheard rhett moving about in his room for a long time, speaking occasionally to pork. still shecould not find courage to call to him. she lay still on the bed in the darkness, shaking.
after a long time, he knocked on her door and she said, trying to control her voice: “come in.”
“am i actually being invited into the sanctuary?” he questioned, opening the door. it was darkand she could not see his face. nor could she make anything of his voice. he entered and closedthe door.
“are you ready for the reception?”
“i’m so sorry but i have a headache.” how odd that her voice sounded natural! thank god forthe dark! “i don’t believe i’ll go. you go, rhett, and give melanie my regrets.”
there was a long pause and he spoke drawlingly, bitingly in the dark.
“what a white livered, cowardly little bitch you are.”
he knew! she lay shaking, unable to speak. she heard him fumble in the dark, strike a matchand the room sprang into light. he walked over to the bed and looked down at her. she saw that hewas in evening clothes.
“get up,” he said and there was nothing in his voice. “we are going to the reception. you willhave to hurry.”
“oh, rhett, i can’t. you see—”
“i can see. get up.”
“rhett, did archie dare—”
“archie dared. a very brave man, archie.”
“you should have killed him for telling lies—”
“i have a strange way of not killing people who tell the truth. there’s no time to argue now. getup.”
she sat up, hugging her wrapper close to her, her eyes searching his face. it was dark andimpassive.
“i won’t go, rhett i can’t until this—misunderstanding is cleared up.”
“if you don’t show your face tonight, you’ll never be able to show it in this town as long as youlive. and while i may endure a trollop for a wife, i won’t endure a coward. you are going tonight,even if everyone, from alex stephens down, cuts you and mrs. wilkes asks us to leave the house.”
“rhett, let me explain.”
“i don’t want to hear. there isn’t time. get on your clothes.”
“they misunderstood—india and mrs. elsing and archie. and they hate me so. india hates meso much that she’d even tell lies about her own brother to make me appear in a bad light. if you’llonly let me explain—”
oh, mother of god, she thought in agony, suppose he says: “pray do explain!” what can i say?
how can i explain?
“they’ll have told everybody lies. i can’t go tonight.”
“you will go,” he said, “if i have to drag you by the neck and plant my boot on your ever socharming bottom every step of the way.”
there was a cold glitter in his eyes as he jerked her to her feet he picked up her stays and threwthem at her.
“put them on. i’ll lace you. oh yes, i know all about lacing. no, i won’t call mammy to helpyou and have you lock the door and skulk here like the coward you are.”
“i’m not a coward,” she cried, stung out of her fear.
“oh, spare me your saga about shooting yankees and facing sherman’s army. you’re a coward—among other things. if not for your own sake, you are going tonight for bonnie’s sake. howcould you further ruin her chances? put on your stays, quick.”
hastily she slipped off her wrapper and stood clad only in her chemise. if only he would look ather and see how nice she looked in her chemise, perhaps that frightening look would leave hisface. after all, he hadn’t seen her in her chemise for ever and ever so long. but he did not look. hewas in her closet, going through her dresses swiftly. he fumbled and drew out her new jade-greenwatered-silk dress. it was cut low over the bosom and the skirt was draped back over an enormousbustle and on the bustle was a huge bunch of pink velvet roses.
“wear that,” he said, tossing it on the bed and coming toward her. “no modest, matronly dovegrays and lilacs tonight. your flag must be nailed to the mast, for obviously you’d run it down if itwasn’t. and plenty of rouge. i’m sure the woman the pharisees took in adultery didn’t look half sopale. turn around.”
he took the strings of the stays in his hands and jerked them so hard that she cried out,frightened, humiliated, embarrassed at such an untoward performance.
“hurts, does it?” he laughed shortly and she could not see his face. “pity it isn’t around yourneck.”
melanie’s house blazed lights from every room and they could hear the music far up the street.
as they drew up in front, the pleasant exciting sounds of many people enjoying themselves floatedout. the house was packed with guests. they overflowed on verandas and many were sitting onbenches in the dim lantern-hung yard.
i can’t go in—i can’t, thought scarlett, sitting in the carriage, gripping her balled-uphandkerchief. i can’t. i won’t. i will jump out and run away, somewhere, back home to tara, whydid rhett force me to come here? what will people do? what will melanie do? what will she looklike? oh, i can’t face her. i will run away.
as though he read her mind, rhett’s hand closed upon her arm in a grip that would leave abruise, the rough grip of a careless stranger.
“i’ve never known an irishman to be a coward. where’s your much-vaunted courage?”
“rhett, do please, let me go home and explain.”
“you have eternity in which to explain and only one night to be a martyr in the amphitheater.
get out, darling, and let me see the lions eat you. get out.”
she went up the walk somehow, the arm she was holding as hard and steady as granite,communicating to her some courage. by god, she could face them and she would. what were theybut a bunch of howling, clawing cats who were jealous of her? she’d show them. she didn’t carewhat they thought. only melanie—only melanie.
they were on the porch and rhett was bowing right and left, his hat in his hand, his voice cooland soft. the music stopped as they entered and the crowd of people seemed to her confused mindto surge up to her like the roar of the sea and then ebb away, with lessening, ever-lessening sound.
was everyone going to cut her? well, god’s nightgown, let them do it! her chin went up and shesmiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling.
before she could turn to speak to those nearest the door, someone came through the press ofpeople. there was an odd hush that caught scarlett’s heart. then through the lane came melanie onsmall feet that hurried, hurried to meet scarlett at the door, to speak to her before anyone elsecould speak. her narrow shoulders were squared and her small jaw set indignantly and, for all hernotice, she might have had no other guest but scarlett. she went to her side and slipped an armabout her waist.
“what a lovely dress, darling,” she said in her small, clear voice. “will you be an angel? indiawas unable to come tonight and assist me. will you receive with me?”
那天是艾希礼的生日，媚兰在晚上举行了一个事先秘而不宣的晚宴。其实除了艾希礼本人，别的人都是知道了的。连韦德和小博也知道，但都发誓要保守秘密，因此还显得很神气呢。亚特兰大所有优秀的人物都受到邀请，也都准备来。戈登将军和他一家亲切地表示接受，亚历山大·斯蒂芬斯也答应只要他那一直不稳定的健康状况允许就一定出席。甚至连鲍勃·图姆斯，这个给南部联盟到处惹事的人，也说要来的。
那天整个上午，思嘉、媚兰、英迪亚和皮蒂姑妈在那座小房子里忙个不停，指挥黑人们挂上那些新洗过的窗帘，擦拭银器，给地板打蜡，烧菜，以及调制和品尝点心，等等。思嘉从没见过媚兰这样高兴和愉快。
“你瞧，亲爱的，艾希礼一直没有做过生日，自从----自从，你还记得'十二橡树'村举办的那次大野宴吗？那天我们听说林肯先生在招募志愿兵呢？嗯，从那以后，他就没做过生日了。他工作那么辛苦，晚上回来时已非常疲乏，一定不会想到今天是他的生日。那么，吃完晚饭后看见那么多人涌进门来，他不给吓坏才怪呢！"“不过，你打算外面草地上那些灯笼怎么办呢？威尔克斯先生回来吃晚饭时会看见的，"阿尔奇显得烦躁地提出这个问题。
他整个上午都坐在那里观看大家忙着准备宴会，感到很有趣，但自己并不承认。他从来不知道大城市里的人是怎样办宴会或招待会的，这一次算是长了见识。他坦率地批评那些女人仅仅因为有几个客人要来便忙成那个样子，好像屋里着了火似的，不过他对这情景很有兴趣，恐怕来几匹野马也没法把他拉走。那些彩纸灯笼是埃尔太太和范妮临时扎的，阿尔奇特别喜欢它们，因为他以前从没见过"这样的新鲜玩意儿。"它们本来给藏在地下室里他的房间里，他已经仔细地看过了。
“哎哟，我倒没想到这一点！"媚兰喊道。"阿尔奇，幸亏你提醒。糟糕，糟糕！这怎么办呢？它们得挂在灌木林和树上，里面插着小蜡烛，等到适当的时候，客人快来了就点上。
思嘉，你能不能在我们吃饭时打发波克下去办这件事？"“威尔克斯太太，你在妇女中是最精明的了，可是你也容易一时糊涂，"阿尔奇说。"至于说到那个傻黑鬼波克，我看他还是不要去弄那些小玩意儿好。他会把它们一下子烧掉的。
它们----可真不错呢，让我来替你挂吧，等你和威尔克斯行生吃饭的时候。““啊，阿尔奇，你真好！"媚兰那双天真的眼睛又感激又信赖地看着他。"我真是不知道要是没有你我怎么办。你看你能不能现在就去把蜡烛插在里面，免得临时措手不及呢？"“好吧，我看可以，"阿尔奇有点粗声粗平地说，接着便笨拙地向地下室走去了。
“对这种人最好的办法就是对他说点好听的，否则你怎么也不行呢。"媚兰看见那个满脸胡子的老头下了地下室的阶梯，才格格地笑着说。"我一直就在打算要让阿尔奇去挂那些灯笼，可是你知道他的脾气。你要请他做事，他偏不去。现在我们让他走开，好清静一会儿，那些黑人都那样害怕他，只要他在场就低着头喘气，简直什么也别想干了。"“媚兰，我是不愿意让这个老鬼待在我屋里，"思嘉气恼地说。她恨阿尔奇就像阿尔奇恨她一样，两个人在一起几乎不说话。除非是在媚兰家里，否则他一见思嘉在场就要跑开。
而且，甚至在媚兰家里他也会用猜疑和冷漠的眼光盯着她。
“他会给你惹麻烦的，请记住我这句话吧。"“唔，这个人也没有什么恶意，只要你恭维他，显得你暗依赖他的，就行了，"媚兰说。"而且他那样忠于艾希礼和小博，所以有他在身边，就觉得安全多了。"“你的意思是他很忠于你了，媚兰，“英迪亚插嘴说，她那冷淡的面孔流露出一丝丝温暖的微笑，同时深情地看着自己的嫂子。"我相信你是这老恶棍第一个喜欢的人，自从他老婆----噢----自从他老婆死了以后。我想他会巴不得有什么人来侮辱你，因为这才有机会让把他们杀了，显示他对你的尊敬呢。”
“哎哟，瞧你说到那里去了，英迪亚！"媚兰说，脸都红了。"他认为我愚得很，这你是知道的。"“嗯，据我看，无论这个臭老头子到底心里想什么，也没有多大意思，"思嘉很不耐烦地说。她一想起阿尔奇曾经责怪她的关于罪犯的事，就怒火满腔。"我现在得去吃中饭了，然后要店里去一下，给伙计们发放工钱，再去看看木料场，付钱给车夫和休·埃尔辛。““唔，你要到木料场去？"媚兰问。"艾希礼傍晚时候要到场里去看休呢。你能不能把他留在那里等到五点钟再放他走？
要不然他回来早了，一定会看见我们在做蛋糕什么的，那样就根本谈不上叫他惊喜了。“思嘉暗自一笑，情绪又好起来。
“好吧，我会留住他的。"她说。
当她这样说时，她发现英迪亚那双没有睫毛的眼睛正犀利地盯着她。她想：每次只要我一说到艾希礼，她就这样古怪地看我。
“那么，你尽可能把他留到五点以后，"媚兰说，"然后英迪亚赶车去把他带上。……思嘉，今晚你得早点来呀。我可要你一分钟也不耽误来参加宴会。"思嘉赶车回家时，一路上闷闷不乐地思忖着：“她叫我一分钟也不要耽误去参加宴会，啊？那么，她为什么不请我跟她和英迪亚和皮蒂姑妈一起接待客人呢？"在通常情况下，思嘉并不在意是否在媚兰举办的家宴上参加接待客人。可这一回是媚兰家里最大的一次宴会，并且是艾希礼的生日晚会呢，所以思嘉恨希望能站在艾希礼身边，跟他一起接待宾客。但是不知为什么她没有被邀请来参加接待。当然，尽管她自己至今仍不明白，不过瑞德对于这个问题已经作过坦率的解释了。
“在所有知名的前南部联盟拥护者们要出席的情况下，能让一个拥护共和党和南方白人来参加接待吗？你的想法倒是很迷惑人的，可人家也不是糊涂虫呀。我看只因为媚兰小姐对你一片忠诚，才居然邀请了你呢。"那天下午思嘉动身到店里和木料场去之前，比往常多注意打扮了一下自己，穿了一件暗绿的可以闪闪发光的塔夫绸长衣，它在灯光下会变成淡紫色；还戴了一顶浅绿色的新帽子，周围装饰着深绿色羽毛。要是瑞德赞成她把头发剪成刘海式的，并在额前烫成鬈发，戴上这顶帽子还会好看得多呢！
可是他已经宣布，只要她把额发弄成刘海，他就要把她的头发全剃光。何况近来他态度那样粗鲁，说不定真会干呢。
那天下午天气很好，有太阳，但并不怎么热，很亮堂，但又不觉得刺眼，温暖的微风徐徐地吹指着桃树街两旁的树木，使思嘉帽子上的羽毛也跳起舞来。她的心也在跳舞，就像每一次去见艾希礼时那样。也许，如果她早一点给运输队的车夫和休付了工资，他们便会回家，把她单独和艾希礼留在木料场中央那间的小小的正方形办公室里。最近，要想与艾希礼单独会面可不怎么容易呀。可是你想，媚兰居然请她把他留住呢？这太有意思了。
她赶到店里时心里十分高兴，立即给威利和别的几个店员付了钱，甚至也没有问一下当天营业的情况。那是个星期六，一周中生意最好的一天，因为所有的农人都在这一天进城来买东西，可是她什么也不问了。
到木料场去时，她沿途停了十来次车跟那些打扮得很考究----但是都不如她的打扮那样漂亮，她高兴地想----与提包党太太说说话，还有些男人穿过这大街上的红色尘土跑上前来，手里拿着帽子站在马车旁边向她表示敬意。这真是个很可爱的下午，她非常高兴，也显得很漂亮，她的计划也进行得极为顺利。但是由于这些耽搁，她到达木料场时比原先打算的晚了一点，休和运输队的车夫已经坐在一堆木头上等候她了。
“艾希礼来了吗？”
“来了，他在办事房里，"休加答说，他一看见她那快活飞舞的眼睛，脸上惯常带有的那种烦恼的表情便消失了。"他是想----我的意思暗他在查看帐本呢。”“唔，今天他不用费心了，"她说，接着又放低声音说：“媚兰打发我来把他留住，等他们把今晚的宴会准备好了才让他回去呢。"休微笑起来，因为他也要去参加宴会。他喜欢参加宴，并且猜测思嘉也是这样，这可从她今天下午的神气看得出来。她给运输队和休付了钱，然后匆匆离开他们向办事房走去，那态度显然是她不愿意他们留在这里。艾希礼在门口遇到她，他站在午后的阳光下，头发闪闪发亮，嘴唇上流露出一丝差一点要露出牙齿来的微笑。
“怎么，思嘉，你这时候跑到市区来干什么？你怎么没在我家里帮媚兰准备那个秘密的宴会呢？"“怎么了，艾希礼·威尔克斯？"思嘉生气地喊道。"本来是想不让你知道这件事的呀。要是你居然一点也不吃惊，媚兰会大失所望呢。"“唔，我不会泄露的，我将是亚特兰大最感到吃惊的一个，"艾希礼眉开眼笑地说。
“那么，是谁这么缺德告诉你了呢？”
“事实上媚兰把所有的人都请上了。头一个是戈登将军。
他说根据他的经验，妇女们要举行意外招待会时，总是选择男人们决定要在家里擦拭枪支的晚上举办。然后梅里韦瑟爷爷也向我提出了警告。他说有一次梅里瑟太太给他举行意外宴会，可结果最吃惊的人却是她自己，因为梅里韦瑟爷爷一直在偷偷地使用威士忌治他的风湿症，那天晚上他喝得烂醉，压根儿起不来床了----就这样，凡是那些为他们举行过意外宴会的人都告诉我了。"“这些人真缺德啊！"思嘉骂了一句，但又不得不笑起来。
他仍然是以前她在"十二像树"村认识的那个艾希礼的模样，那时也是这样笑的。可是他最近很难得有这种笑容。今天空气是这么柔和，太阳这么温煦，艾希礼的面容这么愉快，谈起话来又显得这么轻松，因此思嘉也有点兴高采烈了。她的心在发胀，高兴得发胀，好像整个胸膛充满了喜悦的、滚烫的没有流出的泪珠，被压得疼痛难忍。她突然感到自己又变成了一个十六岁的姑娘，那么快活，还有点紧张和兴奋。她简直想把帽子扯下来，把它抛到空中，一面高呼"万岁！"接着她想像如果她真的这么做时，艾希礼会多么惊讶，于是她放声大笑，笑得眼泪都快流出来了。艾希礼也跟着仰头大笑，仿佛他欣赏这笑声似的，他还以为思嘉是对那些泄露了媚兰秘密的人诡谲手法感到有趣呢。
“进来吧，思嘉。我正要查账呢。”
她走进阳光热的小房间，坐在写字台前的椅子上。艾希礼跟着坐在一张粗木桌子的角上，两条长腿悬在那里随意摇摆。
“艾希礼，咱们今天下午别弄什么账本子吧！我都腻烦透了。我只要戴上一顶新帽子，就觉得我熟悉的那些数字全都从脑子里跑掉了。"“既然帽子这样漂亮，数字跑掉也完全是应该的嘛，”他说，"思嘉，你愈来愈美了"他从桌子上滑下来，然后笑着拉住她的双手，把她的双臂展开，好打量她的衣裳。"你真漂亮！我想你是永远也不会老的！"她一接触到他便不自觉地明白了，她本来就是期望发生这种情况的。这一整个愉快的下午她都在渴望着他那双温暖的手和那柔和的眼睛，以及他的一句表示情意的话。这是自从塔拉果园里那寒冷的一天以来，他们头一次完便单独在一起，头一次他们彼此无所顾忌地拉着手，并且有很长一个时期她一直渴望着同他更密切地接触呢。而现在----真奇怪，怎么跟他拉着手她也不感到激动呀？以前，只要他一靠近便会叫她浑身颤抖。可现在她只感到一种异样温暖的友谊和满足之情。他的手没有给她传来炽热的感觉，她自己的手被握着时也只觉得心情愉快和安静了。这使她不可思议，甚至有点惊惶不安。他仍旧是她的艾希礼，仍旧是她的漂亮英俊的心上人，她爱他胜过爱自己的生命。那么为什么----不过，她把这想法抛到了脑后。既然她跟他在一起，他在拉住她的手微笑着，即便纯粹的朋友式的，没有了什么激情，那也就满足了。当她想起他们之间所有那些心照不宣的事情时，便觉得出现这种情形实在不可理喻。他那双清澈明亮的眼睛盯着她，仿佛洞察她的隐情似的，同时用她向来很喜欢的那种神态微笑着，好像他们之间只有欢愉，没有任何别的东西。现在他们的两双眼睛之间毫无隔阂，毫无疏远困惑的迹象了。于是她笑起来。
“哎，艾希礼，我很快就老了，要老掉牙了。"“哎，这是显而易见的事嘛！不思嘉，在我看来，你到六十岁也还是一样的。我会永远记住我们一次举办大野宴那天你的那副模样，那时你坐在一棵橡树底下，周围有十多个小伙子围着呢。我甚至还能说出你当时的打扮，穿着一件带小绿花的白衣裳，肩上披着白色的网织围巾。你脚上穿的是带黑色饰边的小小的绿便鞋，头上戴一顶意大利麦辫大草帽，上面还有长长的绿色皮带。我心里还记得那身打扮，那是因为在俘虏营里境况极其艰苦时，我常常把往事拿出来像翻图似的一桩桩温习着，连每一个细节都不放过----"说到这里他突然停住，脸上那热切的光辉也消失了。他轻轻地放下她的后，让她坐在那里等待他的下一句话。
“从那以后，我们已走了很长一段路程，我们两人都是这样，你说是吗，思嘉？我们走了许多从没想到要走的路。你走得很快，很麻利，而我呢，又慢又勉强。“他重新坐到桌上，看着她，脸止又恢复了一丝笑容。但这不是刚才使她愉快过的那种微笑了。这是一丝凄凉的笑意。
“是的，你走得很快，把我拴在你的车轮上拖着走。思嘉，我有时怀着一种客观的好奇心，设想假如没有你我会变成了什么样子呢。"思嘉赶忙过来为他辩解，不让他这样贬损自己，尤其因为她这时偏偏想起了瑞德在这同一个问题上说的那些话。
“可是艾希礼，我从没替你做过什么事呢。就是没有我，你也会完全一样的。总有一天你会成为一个富人，成为一个你应当成为的那种伟大人物。"“不，思嘉，我身上根本没有那种伟大的种子。我想要不是因为你，我早就会变得无声无息了----就像可怜的凯瑟琳·卡尔弗特和其他许多曾经有过名气的人那样。"“唔，艾希礼，不要这样说。你说的太叫人伤心了。"“不，我并不伤心。我再也不伤心了。以前----以前我伤心过。可如今我只是----”他停下来，这时思嘉忽然明白他心里在想什么。这还是头一次，当艾希礼那双清澈而又茫然若失的眼睛扫过她时，她知道他是在想什么。当爱情的烈火在她胸中燃烧时，他的心是向她关闭的。现在，他们中间只存在一种默默的友情，她才有可能稍稍进入他的心里，了解一点他的想法。他不再伤心了。南方投降后他伤心过，她恳求他回亚特兰大时他伤心过。可如今他只能听拼命运的摆布了。
“我不要听你说那样的话，艾希礼，"她愤愤地说。"你的话听起来就像是瑞德说的。他在很多事情以及所谓'适者生存'之类的问题上常常唱那样的调子，简直叫我厌烦透了。"艾希礼微微一笑。
“思嘉，你可曾想过瑞德和我是基本相同的一种人吗？"“啊，没有！你这么文雅，这么正直，而瑞德----"她停下来，不知道怎么说好。
“但实际是一样。我们出身于同一类的人家，在同样的模式下教育成长，养成了同样的思维方式。不过在人生道路上某个地方我们分道扬镳了。但我们的想法依然相同，只不过作出的反应不一样而已。举例说，我们谁都不赞成战争，可是我参加了军队，打过仗，而他直到战争快结束时才去入伍。
我们两人都明白这场战争是完全错误的。我们两人都知道这一场必定要输的战争。可是我愿意去打这场必败的战争，而他却不是这样。有时我觉得他是对的，可是接着，又觉得----""唔，艾希礼，你什么时候才放弃从两个方面去看问题呢？“她问。但是她说这话时并没有像以前那样很不耐烦。
“要是从两个方面去看，就谁也得不出什么结果了。"“这也对，不过----思嘉，你到底要得到什么结果呀？我常常这样猜想。你瞧，我可是从来也不想得到什么结果的。我只要我自己自由自在地做人。"思嘉要得到什么结果？过个问题太可笑了。当然，是金钱和安全嘛。不过----她又感到说不清楚了。她如今已经有了钱，也有了在这个不安定的世界上可望得到的安全。可是，仔细想来，这些也还是不够的。仔细想想，它们并没有使她特别快活，尽管已不再那么拮据，不再那么提心吊胆了。要是我有了钱和安全，又有了你，那大概就是我要得到的结果吧----思嘉这样想，一面热切地望着艾希礼。可是她没有说这个话，因为生怕破坏了他们之间此刻在的那种默契，生怕他的心又要向她关闭起来。
“你只要自己自由自在地做人！"她笑着说，略略有点悲伤。"我最大的苦恼就是不能让自己自由自在地活着！至于说我要得到什么结果，那么想我已经得到了，我要成为富人，要安全，还有----"“但是，思嘉，你有没有想过我这个人是不考虑富不富的呢？"没有，她从没想过什么人是不要做富人的。
“那么，你要的是什么呢？”
“我现在不清楚。我曾经是知道的，但后来大部分忘了。
最重要的是让我自由自在，那些我不喜欢的人不要来折磨我，不要强迫我去做我不想做的事。也许----我希望旧时代重新回来，可是它已经一去不复返了，因此我经常怀念它，也怀念那个正在我眼前崩溃的世界。"思嘉紧紧地闭着嘴，一声也不吭。这并非由于她不明白他的意思。而是他的声调本身而不是别的唤起了她对往昔的回忆，使得她突然心痛，因为她也是会怀念的。但是，自从那一天她晕倒在"十二橡树"村那荒凉的果园里，说了"我决不回顾"的话以后，她就始终坚决反对谈过去的事了。
“我更喜欢现在这样的日子，"她说，不过并没有看他的眼睛。"现在时常有些令人兴奋的事情，比如，举行宴会，等等。一切都显得有了光彩。而旧时代是十分暗淡的。"（唔，那些懒洋洋的日子和温煦而宁静的乡村傍晚！那些来自下房区的响亮而亲切的笑声！生活中那种珍贵的温暖和对明天的令人欣慰的期待！所有这些，我怎么能否认呢？
“我更喜欢现在这样的日子，"她说，但是声音有点颤抖。
他从桌子上滑下来，微微一笑，表示不怎么相信她的话。
他一只手托着她的下巴，让她仰起脸来看着他。
“哎，思嘉，你太不会撒谎了！是的，现在生活显得有了光彩----某种光彩。可这就是它的毛病所在。旧时代没有光彩，可它有一种迷人之处，有一种美，一种缓缓进行的魅力。“她的思绪在向两个方向牵引，她不觉低下头来。他说话的声调，他那手的接触，都在轻轻地打开她那些永远锁上了门。那些门背后藏着往日的美好，而现在她心里正苦苦渴望着重新见到它。不过她也知道，无论是什么样的美都必须藏在那里。因为谁也不能肩负着痛苦的记忆向前走埃他的手从她下巴上放下来，然后他把她的一只手拉过来，轻轻地握在自己的两只手里。
“你还记不记得，"他说----可此时思嘉心里响起了警钟：不要向后看！不要向后看！
不过她迅速把它排除，乘着一个欢乐的高潮冲上去。终于她开始理解他，终于他们的心会合了。这个时刻可实在宝忠，千万不能失掉，哪怕事后会留下痛苦也顾不得了。
“你还记不记得，"他说，这时他那声音的魅力使得办事房的四壁忽然隐退，岁月也纷纷后退了，他们在一个过去已久的春天里，一起骑着马在村道上并辔而行。他说话时那只轻轻握住她的手便握得竖了，同时声音中也含有一种古老歌曲中那样的悲凉味。她还能听见他们在山茱萸树下行进，去参加塔尔顿家的野宴时那悦耳的缰辔丁当声，听见她自己纵情的笑声，看见太阳照得他的头发闪闪发亮，并且注意到他骑在马背上那高傲而安详的英姿。他的声音里有音乐，有他们在那白房子里跳舞时小提琴和班卓琴的演奏声，尽管那座白房子如今已不在了。还有秋天清冷的月光下从阴暗的沼泽地里远远传来的负鼠犬的吠叫声，过圣诞节时用冬青叶缠绕着一碗碗蛋酒的醇香味，以及黑人和白人脸上的微笑。于是老朋