to me。 Was that what you were trying to say？ Oh； I’ve known that all along。 All these years。 How do I know？ Oh； well； I know Ashley Wilkes and his breed。 I know he is honorable and a gentleman。 And that my dear； is more than I can say for you—or for me； for that matter。 We are not gentlemen and we have no honor； have we？ That’s why we flourish like green bay trees。”
“Let me go。 I won’t stand here and be insulted。”
“I’m not insulting you。 I’m praising your physical virtue。 And it hasn’t fooled me one bit。 You think men are such fools； Scarlett。 It never pays to underestimate your opponent’s strength and intelligence。 And I’m not a fool。 Don’t you suppose I know that you’ve lain in my arms and pretended I was Ashley Wilkes？”
Her jaw dropped and fear and astonishment were written plainly in her face。
“Pleasant thing； that。 Rather ghostly； in fact。 Like having three in a bed where there ought to be just two。” He shook her shoulders； ever so slightly； hiccoughed and smiled mockingly。
“Oh； yes； you’ve been faithful to me because Ashley wouldn’t have you。 But； hell； I wouldn’t have grudged him your body。 I know how little bodies mean—especially women’s bodies。 But I do grudge him your heart and your dear； hard； unscrupulous； stubborn mind。 He doesn’t want your mind； the fool； and I don’t want your body。 I can buy women cheap。 But I do want your mind and your heart； and I’ll never have them； any more than you’ll ever have Ashley’s mind。 And that’s why I’m sorry for you。”
Even through her fear and bewilderment； his sneer stung。
“Sorry—for me？”
“Yes； sorry because you’re such a child； Scarlett。 A child crying for the moon。 What would a child do with the moon if it got it？ And what would you do with Ashley？ Yes； I’m sorry for you—sorry to see you throwing away happiness with both hands and reaching out for something that would never make you happy。 I’m sorry because you are such a fool you don’t know there can’t ever be happiness except when like mates like。 If I were dead； if Miss Melly were dead and you had your precious honorable lover； do you think you’d be happy with him？ Hell； no！ You would never know him； never know what he was thinking about； never understand him any more than you understand music and poetry and books or anything that isn’t dollars and cents。 Whereas； we； dear wife of my bosom； could have been perfectly happy if you had ever given us half a chance； for we are so much alike。 We are both scoundrels； Scarlett； and nothing is beyond us when we want something。 We could have been happy； for I loved you and I know you； Scarlett； down to your bones； in a way that Ashley could never know you。 And he would despise you if he did know。 。。。 But no； you must go mooning all your life after a man you cannot understand。 And I； my darling； will continue to moon after whores。 And； I dare say we’ll do better than most couples。”
He released her abruptly and made a weaving way back toward the decanter。 For a moment； Scarlett stood rooted； thoughts tearing in and out of her mind so swiftly that she could seize none of them long enough to examine them。 Rhett had said he loved her。 Did he mean it？ Or was he merely drunk？ Or was this one of his horrible jokes？ And Ashley—the moon—crying for the moon。 She ran swiftly into the dark hall； fleeing as though demons were upon her。 Oh； if she could only reach her room！ She turned her ankle and the slipper fell half off。 As she stopped to kick it loose frantically； Rhett； running lightly as an Indian； was beside her in the dark。 His breath was not on her face and his hands went round her roughly； under the wrapper； against her bare skin。
“You turned me out on the town while you chased him。 By God； this is one night when there are only going to be two in my bed。”
He swung her off her feet into his arms and started up the stairs。 Her head was crushed against his chest and she heard the hard hammering of his heart beneath her ears。 He hurt her and she cried out； muffled； frightened。 Up the stairs； he went in the utter darkness； up； up； and she was wild with fear。 He was a mad stranger and this was a black darkness she did not know； darker than death。 He was like death； carrying her away in arms that hurt。 She screamed； stifled against him and he stopped suddenly on the landing and； turning her swiftly in his arms； bent over and kissed her with a savagery and a completeness that wiped out everything from her mind but the dark into which she was sinking and the lips on hers。 He was shaking； as though he stood in a strong wind； and his lips； traveling from her mouth downward to where the wrapper had fallen from her body； fell on her soft flesh。 He was muttering things she did not hear； his lips were evoking feelings never felt before。 She was darkness and he was darkness and there had never been anything before this time； only darkness and his lips upon her。 She tried to speak and his mouth was over hers again。 Suddenly she had a wild thrill such as she had never known； joy； fear； madness； excitement； surrender to arms that were too strong； lips too bruising； fate that moved too fast For the first time in her life she had met someone； something stronger than she； someone she could neither bully nor break； someone who was bullying and breaking her。 Somehow； her arms were around his neck and her lips trembling beneath his and they were going up； up into the darkness again； a darkness that was soft and swirling and all enveloping。
When she awoke the next morning； he was gone and had it not been for the rumpled pillow beside her； she would have thought the happenings； of the night before a wild preposterous dream。 She went crimson at the memory and； pulling the bed covers up about her neck； lay bathed in sunlight； trying to sort out the jumbled impressions in her mind。
Two things stood to the fore。 She had lived for years with Rhett； slept with him； eaten with him； quarreled with him and borne his child—and yet； she did not know him。 The man who had carried her up the dark stairs was a stranger of whose existence she had not dreamed。 And now； though she tried to make herself hate him； tried to be indignant； she could not。 He had humbled her； hurt her； used her brutally through a wild mad night and she had gloried in it。
Oh； she should be ashamed； should shrink from the very memory of the hot swirling darkness！ A lady； a real lady； could never hold up her head after such a night。 But； stronger than shame； was the memory of rapture； of the ecstasy of surrender。 For the first time in her life she had felt alive； felt passion as sweeping and primitive as the fear she had known the night she fled Atlanta； as dizzy sweet as the cold hate when she had shot the Yankee。
Rhett loved her！ At least； he said he loved her and how could she doubt it now？ How odd and bewildering and how incredible that he loved her； this savage stranger with whom she had lived in such coolness。 She was not altogether certain how she felt about this revelation but as an idea came to her she suddenly laughed aloud。 He loved her and so she had him at last。 She had almost forgotten her early desire to entrap him into loving her； so she could hold the whip over his insolent black head。 Now； it came back and it gave her great satisfaction。 For one night； he had had her at his mercy but now she knew the weakness of his armor。 From now on she had him where she wanted him。 She had smarted under his jeers for。 a long time； but now she had him where she could make him jump through any hoops she cared to hold。
When she thought of meeting him again； face to face in the sober light of day； a nervous tingling embarrassment that carried with it an exciting pleasure enveloped her。
“I’m nervous as a bride；” she thought。 “And about Rhett！” And； at the idea she fell to giggling foolishly。
But Rhett did not appear for dinner； nor was he at his place at the supper table。 The night passed； a long night during which she lay awake until dawn； her ears strained to hear his key in the latch。 But he did not come。 When the second day passed with no word from him； she was frantic with disappointment and fear。 She went by the bank but he was not there。 She went to the store and was very sharp with everyone； for every time the door opened to admit a customer she looked up with a flutter； hoping it was Rhett。 She went to the lumber yard and bullied Hugh until he hid himself behind a pile of lumber。 But Rhett did not seek her there。
She could not humble herself to ask friends if they had seen him。 She could not make inquiries among the servants for news of him。 But she felt they knew something she did not know。 Negroes always knew everything。 Mammy was unusually silent those two days。 She watched Scarlett out of the corner of her eye and said nothing。 When the second night had passed Scarlett made up her mind to go to the police。 Perhaps he had had an accident； perhaps his horse had thrown him and he was lying helpless in some ditch。 Perhaps—oh； horrible thought—perhaps he was dead。
The next morning when she had finished her breakfast and was in her room putting on her bonnet； she heard swift feet on the。 stairs。 As she sank to the bed in weak thankfulness； Rhett entered the room。 He was freshly barbered； shaved and massaged and he was sober； but his eyes were bloodshot and his face puffy from drink。 He waved an airy hand at her and said： “Oh； hello。”
How could a man say： “Oh； hello；” after being gone without explanation for two days？ How could he be so nonchalant with the memory of such a night as they had spent？ He couldn’t unless—unless—the terrible thought leaped into her mind。 Unless such nights were the usual thing to him。 For a moment she could not speak and all the pretty gestures and smiles she had thought to use upon him were forgotten。 He did not even come to her to give her his usual offhand kiss but stood looking at her； with a grin； a smoking cigar in his hand。
“Where—where have you been？”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know！ I thought surely the whole town knew by now。 Perhaps they all do； except you。 You know the old adage： ‘The wife is always the last one to find out。’ ”
“What do you mean？”
“I thought that after the police