飘

　“May　I　close　the　doors？”
　She　knew　if　Mammy　saw　the　closed　doors　she　would　be　scandalized　and　would　lecture　and　grumble　about　it　for　days；　but　it　would　be　still　worse　if　Mammy　should　overhear　this　discussion　of　drinking；　especially　in　light　of　the　missing　brandy　bottle。　She　nodded　and　Rhett　drew　the　sliding　doors　together。　When　he　came　back　and　sat　down　beside　her；　his　dark　eyes　alertly　searching　her　face；　the　pall　of　death　receded　before　the　vitality　he　radiated　and　the　room　seemed　pleasant　and　home…like　again；　the　lamps　rosy　and　warm。
　“What’s　the　matter；　honey？”
　No　one　in　the　world　could　say　that　foolish　word　of　endearment　as　caressingly　as　Rhett；　even　when　he　was　joking；　but　he　did　not　look　as　if　he　were　joking　now。　She　raised　tormented　eyes　to　his　face　and　somehow　found　comfort　in　the　blank　inscrutability　she　saw　there。　She　did　not　know　why　this　should　be；　for　he　was　such　an　unpredictable；　callous　person。　Perhaps　it　was　because；　as　he　often　said；　they　were　so　much　alike。　Sometimes　she　thought　that　all　the　people　she　had　ever　known　were　strangers　except　Rhett。
　“Can’t　you　tell　me？”　he　took　her　hand；　oddly　gentle。　“It’s　more　than　old　Frank　leaving　you？　Do　you　need　money？”
　“Money？　God；　no！　Oh；　Rhett；　I’m　so　afraid。”
　“Don’t　be　a　goose；　Scarlett；　you’ve　never　been　afraid　in　your　life。”
　“Oh；　Rhett；　I　am　afraid！”
　The　words　bubbled　up　faster　than　she　could　speak　them。　She　could　tell　him。　She　could　tell　Rhett　anything。　He’d　been　so　bad　himself　that　he　wouldn’t　sit　in　judgment　on　her。　How　wonderful　to　know　someone　who　was　bad　and　dishonorable　and　a　cheat　and　a　liar；　when　all　the　world　was　filled　with　people　who　would　not　lie　to　save　their　souls　and　who　would　rather　starve　than　do　a　dishonorable　deed！
　“I’m　afraid　I’ll　die　and　go　to　hell。”
　If　he　laughed　at　her　she　would　die；　right　then。　But　he　did　not　laugh。
　“You　are　pretty　healthy—and　maybe　there　isn’t　any　hell　after　all。”
　“Oh；　but　there　is；　Rhett！　You　know　there　is！”
　“I　know　there　is　but　it’s　right　here　on　earth。　Not　after　we　die。　There’s　nothing　after　we　die；　Scarlett。　You　are　having　your　hell　now。”
　“Oh；　Rhett；　that’s　blasphemous！”
　“But　singularly　comforting。　Tell　me；　why　are　you　going　to　hell？”
　He　was　teasing　now；　she　could　see　the　glint　in　his　eyes　but　she　did　not　mind。　His　hands　felt　so　warm　and　strong；　so　comforting　to　cling　to。
　“Rhett；　I　oughtn’t　to　have　married　Frank。　It　was　wrong。　He　was　Suellen’s　beau　and　he　loved　her；　not　me。　But　I　lied　to　him　and　told　him　she　was　going　to　marry　Tony　Fontaine。　Oh；　how　could　I　have　done　it？”
　“Ah；　so　that　was　how　it　came　about！　I　always　wondered。”
　“And　then　I　made　him　so　miserable。　I　made　him　do　all　sorts　of　things　he　didn’t　want　to　do；　like　making　people　pay　their　bills　when　they　really　couldn’t　afford　to　pay　them。　And　it　hurt　him　so　when　I　ran　the　mills　and　built　the　saloon　and　leased　convicts。　He　could　hardly　hold　up　his　head　for　shame。　And　Rhett；　I　killed　him。　Yes；　I　did！　I　didn’t　know　he　was　in　the　Klan。　I　never　dreamed　he　had　that　much　gumption。　But　I　ought　to　have　known。　And　I　killed　him。”
　“　‘Will　all　great　Neptune’s　ocean　wash　this　blood　clean　from　my　hand？’　”
　“What？”
　“No　matter。　Go　on。”
　“Go　on？　That’s　all。　Isn’t　it　enough？　I　married　him；　I　made　him　unhappy　and　I　killed　him。　Oh；　my　God！　I　don’t　see　how　I　could　have　done　it！　I　lied　to　him　and　I　married　him。　It　all　seemed　so　right　when　I　did　it　but　now　I　see　how　wrong　it　was。　Rhett；　it　doesn’t　seem　like　it　was　me　who　did　all　these　things。　I　was　so　mean　to　him　but　I’m　not　really　mean。　I　wasn’t　raised　that　way。　Mother—”　She　stopped　and　swallowed。　She　had　avoided　thinking　of　Ellen　all　day　but　she　could　no　longer　blot　out　her　image。
　“I　often　wondered　what　she　was　like。　You　seemed　to　me　so　like　your　father。”
　“Mother　was—　Oh；　Rhett；　for　the　first　time　I’m　glad　she’s　dead；　so　she　can’t　see　me。　She　didn’t　raise　me　to　be　mean。　She　was　so　kind　to　everybody；　so　good。　She’d　rather　I’d　have　starved　than　done　this。　And　I　so　wanted　to　be　just　like　her　in　every　way　and　I’m　not　like　her　one　bit　I　hadn’t　thought　of　that—there’s　been　so　much　else　to　think　about—but　I　wanted　to　be　like　her。　I　didn’t　want　to　be　like　Pa。　I　loved　him　but　he　was—so—so　thoughtless。　Rhett；　sometimes　I　did　try　so　hard　to　be　nice　to　people　and　kind　to　Frank；　but　then　the　nightmare　would　come　back　and　scare　me　so　bad　I’d　want　to　rush　out　and　just　grab　money　away　from　people；　whether　it　was　mine　or　not。”
　Tears　were　streaming　unheeded　down　her　face　and　she　clutched　his　hand　so　hard　that　her　nails　dug　into　his　flesh。
　“What　nightmare？”　His　voice　was　calm　and　soothing。
　“Oh—I　forgot　you　didn’t　know。　Well；　just　when　I　would　try　to　be　nice　to　folks　and　tell　myself　that　money　wasn’t　everything；　I’d　go　to　bed　and　dream　that　I　was　back　at　Tara　right　after　Mother　died；　right　after　the　Yankees　went　through。　Rhett；　you　can’t　imagine—　I　get　cold　when　I　think　about　it。　I　can　see　how　everything　is　burned　and　so　still　and　there’s　nothing　to　eat。　Oh；　Rhett；　in　my　dream　I’m　hungry　again。”
　“Go　on。”
　“I’m　hungry　and　everybody；　Pa　and　the　girls　and　the　darkies；　are　starving　and　they　keep　saying　over　and　over：　‘We’re　hungry’　and　I’m　so　empty　it　hurts；　and　so　frightened。　My　mind　keeps　saying：　‘If　I　ever　get　out　of　this；　I’ll　never；　never　be　hungry　again’　and　then　the　dream　goes　off　into　a　gray　mist　and　I’m　running；　running　in　the　mist；　running　so　hard　my　heart’s　about　to　burst　and　something　is　chasing　me；　and　I　can’t　breathe　but　I　keep　thinking　that　if　I　can　just　get　there；　I’ll　be　safe。　But　I　don’t　know　where　I’m　trying　to　get　to。　And　then　I’d　wake　up　and　I’d　be　cold　with　fright　and　so　afraid　that　I’d　be　hungry　again。　When　I　wake　up　from　that　dream；　it　seems　like　there’s　not　enough　money　in　the　world　to　keep　me　from　being　afraid　of　being　hungry　again。　And　then　Frank　would　be　so　mealy　mouthed　and　slow　poky　that　he　would　make　me　mad　and　I’d　lose　my　temper。　He　didn’t　understand；　I　guess；　and　I　couldn’t　make　him　understand。　I　kept　thinking　that　I’d　make　it　up　to　him　some　day　when　we　had　money　and　I　wasn’t　so　afraid　of　being　hungry。　And　now　he’s　dead　and　it’s　too　late。　Oh；　it　seemed　so　right　when　I　did　it　but　it　was　all　so　wrong。　If　I　had　it　to　do　over　again；　I’d　do　it　so　differently。”
　“Hush；”　he　said；　disentangling　her　frantic　grip　and　pulling　a　clean　handkerchief　from　his　pocket。　“Wipe　your　face。　There　is　no　sense　in　your　tearing　yourself　to　pieces　this　way。”
　She　took　the　handkerchief　and　wiped　her　damp　cheeks；　a　little　relief　stealing　over　her　as　if　she　had　shifted　some　of　her　burden　to　his　broad　shoulders。　He　looked　so　capable　and　calm　and　even　the　slight　twist　of　his　mouth　was　comforting　as　though　it　proved　her　agony　and　confusion　unwarranted。
　“Feel　better　now？　Then　let’s　get　to　the　bottom　of　this。　You　say　if　you　had　it　to　do　over　again；　you’d　do　it　differently。　But　would　you？　Think；　now。　Would　you？”
　“Well—”
　“No；　you’d　do　the　same　things　again。　Did　you　have　any　other　choice？”
　“No。”
　“Then　what　are　you　sorry　about？”
　“I　was　so　mean　and　now　he’s　dead。”
　“And　if　he　wasn’t　dead；　you’d　still　be　mean。　As　I　understand　it；　you　are　not　really　sorry　for　marrying　Frank　and　bullying　him　and　inadvertently　causing　his　death。　You　are　only　sorry　because　you　are　afraid　of　going　to　hell。　Is　that　right？”
　“Well—that　sounds　so　mixed　up。”
　“Your　ethics　are　considerably　mixed　up　too。　You　are　in　the　exact　position　of　a　thief　who’s　been　caught　red　handed　and　isn’t　sorry　he　stole　but　is　terribly；　terribly　sorry　he’s　going　to　jail。”
　“A　thief—”
　“Oh；　don’t　be　so　literal！　In　other　words　if　you　didn’t　have　this　silly　idea　that　you　were　damned　to　hell　fire　eternal；　you’d　think　you　were　well　rid　of　Frank。”
　“Oh；　Rhett！”
　“Oh；　come！　You　are　confessing　and　you　might　as　well　confess　the　truth　as　a　decorous　lie。　Did　your—er—conscience　bother　you　much　when　you　offered　to—shall　we　say—part　with　that　jewel　which　is　dearer　than　life　for　three　hundred　dollars？”
　The　brandy　was　spinning　in　her　head　now　and　she　felt　giddy　and　a　little　reckless。　What　was　the　use　in　lying　to　him？　He　always　seemed　to　read　her　mind。
　“I　really　didn’t　think　about　God　much　then—or　hell。　And　when　I　did　think—well；　I　just　reckoned　God　would　understand。”
　“But　you　don’t　credit　God　with　understanding　why　you　married　Frank？”
　“Rhett；　how　can　you　talk　so　about　God　when　you　know　you　don’t　believe　there　is　one？”
　“But　you　believe　in　a　God　of　Wrath　and　that’s　what’s　important　at　present。　Why　shouldn’t　the　Lord　understand？　Are　you　sorry　you　still　own　Tara　and　there　aren’t　Carpetbaggers　living　there？　Are　you　sorry　you　aren’t　hungry　and　ragged？”
　“Oh；　no！”
　“Well；　did　you　have　any　alternative　except　marrying　Frank？”
　“No。”
　“He　didn’t　have　to　marry　you；　did　he？　Men　are　free　agents。　And　he　didn’t　have　to　let　you　bully　him　into　doing　things　he　didn’t　want　to；　did　he？”
　“Well—”
　“Scarlett；　why　worry　about　it？　If　you　had　it　to　do　over　again　you　would　be　driven　to　the　lie　and　he　to　marrying　you。　You　would　still　have　run　yourself　into　danger　and　he　would　have　had　to　avenge　you。　If　he　had　marr