n tents and shanties near the next spring； mean niggers I’ve been told； and I see no reason why you should give the impulsive Ku Klux a cause for putting on their nightshirts and riding abroad this evening。”
“Get out！” she cried； tugging at the reins and suddenly nausea overwhelmed her。 He stopped the horse quickly； passed her two clean handkerchiefs and held her head over the side of the buggy with some skill。 The afternoon sun； slanting low through the newly leaved trees； spun sickeningly for a few moments in a swirl of gold and green。 When the spell had passed； she put her head in her hands and cried from sheer mortification。 Not only had she vomited before a man—in itself as horrible a contretemps as could overtake a woman—but by doing so； the humiliating fact of her pregnancy must now be evident。 She felt that she could never look him in the face again。 To have this happen with him； of all people； with Rhett who had no respect for women！ She cried； expecting some coarse and jocular remark from him which she would never be able to forget。
“Don’t be a fool；” he said quietly。 “And you are a fool； if you are crying for shame。 Come； Scarlett； don’t be a child。 Surely you must know that； not being blind； I knew you were pregnant。”
She said “Oh” in a stunned voice and tightened her fingers over her crimson face。 The word itself horrified her。 Frank always referred to her pregnancy embarrassedly as “your condition；” Gerald had been won’t to say delicately “in the family way；” when he had to mention such matters； and ladies genteelly referred to pregnancy as being “in a fix。”
“You are a child if you thought I didn’t know； for all your smothering yourself under that hot lap robe。 Of course； I knew。 Why else do you think I’ve been—”
He stopped suddenly and a silence fell between them。 He picked up the reins and clucked to the horse。 He went on talking quietly and as his drawl fell pleasantly on her ears； some of the color faded from her down…tucked face。
“I didn’t think you could be so shocked； Scarlett。 I thought you were a sensible person and I’m disappointed。 Can it be possible that modesty still lingers in your breast？ I’m afraid I’m not a gentleman to have mentioned the matter。 And I know I’m not a gentleman； in view of the fact that pregnant women do not embarrass me as they should。 I find it possible to treat them as normal creatures and not look at the ground or the sky or anywhere else in the universe except their waist lines—and then cast at them those furtive glances I’ve always thought the height of indecency。 Why should I？ It’s a perfectly normal state。 The Europeans are far more sensible than we are。 They compliment expectant mothers upon their expectations。 While I wouldn’t advise going that far； still it’s more sensible than our way of trying to ignore it。 It’s a normal state and women should be proud of it； instead of hiding behind closed doors as if they’d committed a crime。”
“Proud！” she cried in a strangled voice。 “Proud—ugh！”
“Aren’t you proud to be having a child？”
“Oh dear God； no！ I—I hate babies！”
“You mean—Frank’s baby。”
“No—anybody’s baby。”
For a moment she went sick again at this new error of speech； but his voice went on as easily as though he had not marked it。
“Then we’re different。 I like babies。”
“You like them？” she cried； looking up； so startled at the statement that she forgot her embarrassment “What a liar you are！”
“I like babies and I like little children； till they begin to grow up and acquire adult habits of thought and adult abilities to lie and cheat and be dirty。 That can’t be news to you。 You know I like Wade Hampton a lot； for all that he isn’t the boy he ought to be。”
That was true； thought Scarlett； suddenly marveling。 He did seem to enjoy playing with Wade and often brought him presents。
“Now that we’ve brought this dreadful subject into the light and you admit that you expect a baby some time in the not too distant future； I’ll say something I’ve been wanting to say for weeks—two things。 The first is that it’s dangerous for you to drive alone。 You know it。 You’ve been told it often enough。 If you don’t care personally whether or not you are raped； you might consider the consequences。 Because of your obstinacy； you may get yourself into a situation where your gallant fellow townsmen will be forced to avenge you by stringing up a few darkies。 And that will bring the Yankees down on them and someone will probably get hanged。 Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps one of the reasons the ladies do not like you is that your conduct may cause the neck…stretching of their sons and husbands？ And furthermore； if the Ku Klux handles many more negroes； the Yankees are going to tighten up on Atlanta in a way that will make Sherman’s conduct look angelic。 I know what I’m talking about； for I’m hand in glove with the Yankees。 Shameful to state； they treat me as one of them and I hear them talk openly。 They mean to stamp out the Ku Klux if it means burning the whole town again and hanging every male over ten。 That would hurt you； Scarlett。 You might lose money。 And there’s no telling where a prairie fire will stop； once it gets started。 Confiscation of property； higher taxes； fines for suspected women—I’ve heard them all suggested。 The Ku Klux—”
“Do you know any Ku Klux？ Is Tommy Wellburn or Hugh or—”
He shrugged impatiently。
“How should I know？ I’m a renegade； a turncoat； a Scalawag。 Would I be likely to know？ But I do know men who are suspected by the Yankees and one false move from them and they are as good as hanged。 While I know you would have no regrets at getting your neighbors on the gallows； I do believe you’d regret losing your mills。 I see by the stubborn look on your face that you do not believe me and my words are falling on stony ground。 So all I can say is； keep that pistol of yours handy—and when I’m in town； I’ll try to be on hand to drive you。”
“Rhett； do you really—is it to protect me that you—”
“Yes； my dear； it is my much advertised chivalry that makes me protect you。” The mocking light began to dance in his black eyes and all signs of earnestness fled from his face。 “And why？ Because of my deep love for you； Mrs。 Kennedy。 Yes； I have silently hungered and thirsted for you and worshipped you from afar； but being an honorable man； like Mr。 Ashley Wilkes； I have concealed it from you。 You are； alas； Frank’s wife and honor has forbidden my telling this to you。 But even as Mr。 Wilkes’ honor cracks occasionally； so mine is cracking now and I reveal my secret passion and my—”
“Oh； for God’s sake； hush！” interrupted Scarlett； annoyed as usual when he made her look like a conceited fool； and not caring to have Ashley and his honor become the subject of further conversation。 “What was the other thing you wanted to tell me？”
“What！ You change the subject when I am baring a loving but lacerated heart？ Well； the other thing is this。” The mocking light died out of his eyes again and his face was dark and quiet。
“I want you to do something about this horse。 He’s stubborn and he’s got a mouth as tough as iron。 Tires you to drive him； doesn’t it？ Well； if he chose to bolt； you couldn’t possibly stop him。 And if you turned over in a ditch； it might kill your baby and you too。 You ought to get the heaviest curb bit you can； or else let me swap him for a gentle horse with a more sensitive mouth。”
She looked up into his blank； smooth face and suddenly her irritation fell away； even as her embarrassment had disappeared after the conversation about her pregnancy。 He had been kind； a few moments before； to put her at her ease when she was wishing that she were dead。 And he was being kinder now and very thoughtful about the horse。 She felt a rush of gratitude to him and she wondered why he could not always be this way。
“The horse is hard to drive；” she agreed meekly。 “Sometimes my arms ache all night from tugging at him。 You do what you think best about him； Rhett。”
His eyes sparkled wickedly。
“That sounds very sweet and feminine； Mrs。 Kennedy。 Not in your usual masterful vein at all。 Well； it only takes proper handling to make a clinging vine out of you。”
She scowled and her temper came back。
“You will get out of this buggy this time； or I will hit you with the whip。 I don’t know why I put up with you—why I try to be nice to you。 You have no manners。 You have no morals。 You are nothing but a— Well； get out I mean it。”
But when he had climbed down and untied his horse from the back of the buggy and stood in the twilight road； grinning tantalizingly at her； she could not smother her own grin as she drove off。
Yes； he was coarse； he was tricky； he was unsafe to have dealings with； and you never could tell when the dull weapon you put into his hands in an unguarded moment might turn into the keenest of blades。 But； after all； he was as stimulating as—well； as a surreptitious glass of brandy！
During these months Scarlett had learned the use of brandy。 When she came home in the late afternoons； damp from the rain； cramped and aching from long hours in the buggy； nothing sustained her except the thought of the bottle hidden in her top bureau drawer； locked against Mammy’s prying eyes。 Dr。 Meade had not thought to warn her that a woman in her condition should not drink； for it never occurred to him that a decent woman would drink anything stronger than scuppernong wine。 Except； of course； a glass of champagne at a wedding or a hot toddy when confined to bed with a hard cold。 Of course； there were unfortunate women who drank； to the eternal disgrace of their families； just as there were women who were insane or divorced or who believed； with Miss Susan B。 Anthony； that women should have the vote。 But as much as the doctor disapproved of Scarlett； he never suspected her of drinking。
Scarlett had found that a drink of neat brandy before supper helped immeasurably and she would always chew coffee or gargle cologne to disguise the smell。 Why were people so silly about women drinking； when men could and did get reeling drunk whenever they wanted to？ Sometimes when Frank lay snoring beside her an