飘

d　sing　at　the　top　of　my　voice　and　compromise　you；　so　you’ll　have　to　marry　me　to　save　your　reputation。”
　“Rhett；　do　be　sensible。　I　don’t　want　to　marry　anybody。”
　“No？　You　aren’t　telling　me　the　real　reason。　It　can’t　be　girlish　timidity。　What　is　it？”
　Suddenly　she　thought　of　Ashley；　saw　him　as　vividly　as　though　he　stood　beside　her；　sunny　haired；　drowsy　eyed；　full　of　dignity；　so　utterly　different　from　Rhett。　He　was　the　real　reason　she　did　not　want　to　marry　again；　although　she　had　no　objections　to　Rhett　and　at　times　was　genuinely　fond　of　him。　She　belonged　to　Ashley；　forever　and　ever。　She　had　never　belonged　to　Charles　or　Frank；　could　never　really　belong　to　Rhett。　Every　part　of　her；　almost　everything　she　had　ever　done；　striven　after；　attained；　belonged　to　Ashley；　were　done　because　she　loved　him。　Ashley　and　Tara；　she　belonged　to　them。　The　smiles；　the　laughter；　the　kisses　she　had　given　Charles　and　Frank　were　Ashley’s；　even　though　he　had　never　claimed　them；　would　never　claim　them。　Somewhere　deep　in　her　was　the　desire　to　keep　herself　for　him；　although　she　knew　he　would　never　take　her。
　She　did　not　know　that　her　face　had　changed；　that　reverie　had　brought　a　softness　to　her　face　which　Rhett　had　never　seen　before。　He　looked　at　the　slanting　green　eyes；　wide　and　misty；　and　the　tender　curve　of　her　lips　and　for　a　moment　his　breath　stopped。　Then　his　mouth　went　down　violently　at　one　corner　and　he　swore　with　passionate　impatience。
　“Scarlett　O’Hara；　you’re　a　fool！”
　Before　she　could　withdraw　her　mind　from　its　far　places；　his　arms　were　around　her；　as　sure　and　hard　as　on　the　dark　road　to　Tara；　so　long　ago。　She　felt　again　the　rush　of　helplessness；　the　sinking　yielding；　the　surging　tide　of　warmth　that　left　her　limp。　And　the　quiet　face　of　Ashley　Wilkes　was　blurred　and　drowned　to　nothingness。　He　bent　back　her　head　across　his　arm　and　kissed　her；　softly　at　first；　and　then　with　a　swift　gradation　of　intensity　that　made　her　cling　to　him　as　the　only　solid　thing　in　a　dizzy　swaying　world。　His　insistent　mouth　was　parting　her　shaking　lips；　sending　wild　tremors　along　her　nerves；　evoking　from　her　sensations　she　had　never　known　she　was　capable　of　feeling。　And　before　a　swimming　giddiness　spun　her　round　and　round；　she　knew　that　she　was　kissing　him　back。
　“Stop—please；　I’m　faint！”　she　whispered；　trying　to　turn　her　head　weakly　from　him。　He　pressed　her　head　back　hard　against　his　shoulder　and　she　had　a　dizzy　glimpse　of　his　face。　His　eyes　were　wide　and　blazing　queerly　and　the　tremor　in　his　arms　frightened　her。
　“I　want　to　make　you　faint。　I　will　make　you　faint。　You’ve　had　this　coming　to　you　for　years。　None　of　the　fools　you’ve　known　have　kissed　you　like　this—have　they？　Your　precious　Charles　or　Frank　or　your　stupid　Ashley—”
　“Please—”
　“I　said　your　stupid　Ashley。　Gentlemen　all—what　do　they　know　about　women？　What　did　they　know　about　you？　I　know　you。”
　His　mouth　was　on　hers　again　and　she　surrendered　without　a　struggle；　too　weak　even　to　turn　her　head；　without　even　the　desire　to　turn　it；　her　heart　shaking　her　with　its　poundings；　fear　of　his　strength　and　her　nerveless　weakness　sweeping　her。　What　was　he　going　to　do？　She　would　faint　if　he　did　not　stop。　If　he　would　only　stop—if　he　would　never　stop。
　“Say　Yes！”　His　mouth　was　poised　above　hers　and　his　eyes　were　so　close　that　they　seemed　enormous；　filling　the　world。　“Say　Yes；　damn　you；　or—”
　She　whispered　“Yes”　before　she　even　thought。　It　was　almost　as　if　he　had　willed　the　word　and　she　had　spoken　it　without　her　own　volition。　But　even　as　she　spoke　it；　a　sudden　calm　fell　on　her　spirit；　her　head　began　to　stop　spinning　and　even　the　giddiness　of　the　brandy　was　lessened。　She　had　promised　to　marry　him　when　she　had　had　no　intention　of　promising。　She　hardly　knew　how　it　had　all　come　about　but　she　was　not　sorry。　It　now　seemed　very　natural　that　she　had　said　Yes—almost　as　if　by　divine　intervention；　a　hand　stronger　than　hers　was　about　her　affairs；　settling　her　problems　for　her。
　He　drew　a　quick　breath　as　she　spoke　and　bent　as　if　to　kiss　her　again　and　her　eyes　closed　and　her　head　fell　back。　But　he　drew　back　and　she　was　faintly　disappointed。　It　made　her　feel　so　strange　to　be　kissed　like　this　and　yet　there　was　something　exciting　about　it。
　He　sat　very　still　for　a　while　holding　her　head　against　his　shoulder　and；　as　if　by　effort；　the　trembling　of　his　arms　ceased。　He　moved　away　from　her　a　little　and　looked　down　at　her。　She　opened　her　eyes　and　saw　that　the　frightening　glow　had　gone　from　his　face。　But　somehow　she　could　not　meet　his　gaze　and　she　dropped　her　eyes　in　a　rush　of　tingling　confusion。
　When　he　spoke　his　voice　was　very　calm。
　“You　meant　it？　You　don’t　want　to　take　it　back？”
　“No。”
　“It’s　not　just　because　I’ve—what　is　the　phrase？—‘swept　you　off　your　feet’　by　my—er—ardor？”
　She　could　not　answer　for　she　did　not　know　what　to　say；　nor　could　she　meet　his　eyes。　He　put　a　hand　under　her　chin　and　lifted　her　face。
　“I　told　you　once　that　I　could　stand　anything　from　you　except　a　lie。　And　now　I　want　the　truth。　Just　why　did　you　say　Yes？”
　Still　the　words　would　not　come；　but；　a　measure　of　poise　returning；　she　kept　her　eyes　demurely　down　and　tucked　the　corners　of　her　mouth　into　a　little　smile。
　“Look　at　me。　Is　it　my　money？”
　“Why；　Rhett！　What　a　question！”
　“Look　up　and　don’t　try　to　sweet　talk　me。　I’m　not　Charles　or　Frank　or　any　of　the　County　boys　to　be　taken　in　by　your　fluttering　lids。　Is　it　my　money？”
　“Well—yes；　a　part。”
　“A　part？”
　He　did　not　seem　annoyed。　He　drew　a　swift　breath　and　with　an　effort　wiped　from　his　eyes　the　eagerness　her　words　had　brought；　an　eagerness　which　she　was　too　confused　to　see。
　“Well；”　she　floundered　helplessly；　“money　does　help；　you　know；　Rhett；　and　God　knows　Frank　didn’t　leave　any　too　much。　But　then—well；　Rhett；　we　do　get　on；　you　know。　And　you　are　the　only　man　I　ever　saw　who　could　stand　the　truth　from　a　woman；　and　it　would　be　nice　having　a　husband　who　didn’t　think　me　a　silly　fool　and　expect　me　to　tell　lies—and—well；　I　am　fond　of　you。”
　“Fond　of　me？”
　“Well；”　she　said　fretfully；　“if　I　said　I　was　madly　in　love　with　you；　I’d　be　lying　and　what’s　more；　you’d　know　it。”
　“Sometimes　I　think　you　carry　your　truth　telling　too　far；　my　pet。　Don’t　you　think；　even　if　it　was　a　lie；　that　it　would　be　appropriate　for　you　to　say　‘I　love　you；　Rhett；’　even　if　you　didn’t　mean　it？”
　What　was　he　driving　at；　she　wondered；　becoming　more　confused。　He　looked　so　queer；　eager；　hurt；　mocking。　He　took　his　hands　from　her　and　shoved　them　deep　in　his　trousers　pockets　and　she　saw　him　ball　his　fists。
　“If　it　costs　me　a　husband；　I’ll　tell　the　truth；”　she　thought　grimly；　her　blood　up　as　always　when　he　baited　her。
　“Rhett；　it　would　be　a　lie；　and　why　should　we　go　through　all　that　foolishness？　I’m　fond　of　you；　like　I　said。　You　know　how　it　is。　You　told　me　once　that　you　didn’t　love　me　but　that　we　had　a　lot　in　common。　Both　rascals；　was　the　way　you—”
　“Oh；　God！”　be　whispered　rapidly；　turning　his　head　away。　“To　be　taken　in　my　own　trap！”
　“What　did　you　say？”
　“Nothing；”　and　he　looked　at　her　and　laughed；　but　it　was　not　a　pleasant　laugh；　“Name　the　day；　my　dear；”　and　he　laughed　again　and　bent　and　kissed　her　hands。　She　was　relieved　to　see　his　mood　pass　and　good　humor　apparently　return；　so　she　smiled　too。
　He　played　with　her　hand　for　a　moment　and　grinned　up　at　her。
　“Did　you　ever　in　your　novel　reading　come　across　the　old　situation　of　the　disinterested　wife　falling　in　love　with　her　own　husband？”
　“You　know　I　don’t　read　novels；”　she　said　and；　trying　to　equal　his　jesting　mood；　went　on：　“Besides；　you　once　said　it　was　the　height　of　bad　form　for　husbands　and　wives　to　love　each　other。”
　“I　once　said　too　God　damn　many　things；”　he　retorted　abruptly　and　rose　to　his　feet。
　“Don’t　swear。”
　“You’ll　have　to　get　used　to　it　and　learn　to　swear　too。　You’ll　have　to　get　used　to　all　my　bad　habits。　That’ll　be　part　of　the　price　of　being—fond　of　me　and　getting　your　pretty　paws　on　my　money。”
　“Well；　don’t　fly　off　the　handle　so；　because　I　didn’t　lie　and　make　you　feel　conceited。　You　aren’t　in　love　with　me；　are　you？　Why　should　I　be　in　love　with　you？”
　“No；　my　dear；　I’m　not　in　love　with　you；　no　more　than　you　are　with　me；　and　if　I　were；　you　would　be　the　last　person　I’d　ever　tell。　God　help　the　man　who　ever　really　loves　you。　You’d　break　his　heart；　my　darling；　cruel；　destructive　little　cat　who　is　so　careless　and　confident　she　doesn’t　even　trouble　to　sheathe　her　claws。”
　He　jerked　her　to　her　feet　and　kissed　her　again；　but　this　time　his　lips　were　different　for　he　seemed　not　to　care　if　he　hurt　her—seemed　to　want　to　hurt　her；　to　insult　her。　His　lips　slid　down　to　her　throat　and　finally　he　pressed　them　against　the　taffeta　over　her　breast；　so　hard　and　so　long　that　his　breath　burnt　to　her　skin。　Her　hands　struggled　up；　pushing　him　away　in　outraged　modesty。
　“You　mustn’t！　How　dare　you！”
　“Your　heart’s　going　like　a　rabbit’s；”　he　said　mockingly。　“All　too　fast　for　mere　fondness　I　would　think；　if　I　were　conceited。　Smooth　your　ruffled　feathers。　You　are　just　putting　on　these　virginal　airs。　Tell　me　what　I　shall　bring　you　from　England。　A　ring？　What　kind　would　you　like？”
　She　wavered　momentarily　between　interes