minmarn/Gone_with_the_wind · Datasets at Hugging Face

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His hands were on her head, under her flowing hair, caressing,
hard, turning her face up to his. She was looking into the face of
a stranger, a drunken drawling-voiced stranger. She had never
lacked animal courage and in the face of danger it flooded back
hotly into her veins, stiffening her spine, narrowing her eyes.

"You drunken fool," she said. "Take your hands off me."

To her surprise, he did so and seating himself on the edge of the
table he poured himself another drink.

"I have always admired your spirit, my dear. Never more than now
when you are cornered."

She drew her wrapper close about her body. Oh, if she could only
reach her room and turn the key in the stout door and be alone.
Somehow, she must stand him off, bully him into submission, this
Rhett she had never seen before. She rose without haste, though
her knees shook, tightened the wrapper across her hips and threw
back her hair from her face.

"I'm not cornered," she said cuttingly. "You'll never corner me,
Rhett Butler, or frighten me. You are nothing but a drunken beast
who's been with bad women so long that you can't understand
anything else but badness. You can't understand Ashley or me.
You've lived in dirt too long to know anything else. You are
jealous of something you can't understand. Good night."

She turned casually and started toward the door and a burst of
laughter stopped her. She turned and he swayed across the room
toward her. Name of God, if he would only stop that terrible
laugh! What was there to laugh about in all of this? As he came
toward her, she backed toward the door and found herself against
the wall. He put his hands heavily upon her and pinned her
shoulders to the wall.

"Stop laughing."

"I am laughing because I am so sorry for you."

"Sorry--for me? Be sorry for yourself."

"Yes, by God, I'm sorry for you, my dear, my pretty little fool.
That hurts, doesn't it? You can't stand either laughter or pity,
can you?"

He stopped laughing, leaning so heavily against her shoulders that
they ached. His face changed and he leaned so close to her that
the heavy whisky smell of his breath made her turn her head.

"Jealous, am I?" he said. "And why not? Oh, yes, I'm jealous of
Ashley Wilkes. Why not? Oh, don't try to talk and explain. I
know you've been physically faithful 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

His hands were on her head, under her flowing hair, caressing,

hard, turning her face up to his. She was looking into the face of

a stranger, a drunken drawling-voiced stranger. She had never

lacked animal courage and in the face of danger it flooded back

hotly into her veins, stiffening her spine, narrowing her eyes.

"You drunken fool," she said. "Take your hands off me."

To her surprise, he did so and seating himself on the edge of the

table he poured himself another drink.

"I have always admired your spirit, my dear. Never more than now

when you are cornered."

She drew her wrapper close about her body. Oh, if she could only

reach her room and turn the key in the stout door and be alone.

Somehow, she must stand him off, bully him into submission, this

Rhett she had never seen before. She rose without haste, though

her knees shook, tightened the wrapper across her hips and threw

back her hair from her face.

"I'm not cornered," she said cuttingly. "You'll never corner me,

Rhett Butler, or frighten me. You are nothing but a drunken beast

who's been with bad women so long that you can't understand

anything else but badness. You can't understand Ashley or me.

You've lived in dirt too long to know anything else. You are

jealous of something you can't understand. Good night."

She turned casually and started toward the door and a burst of

laughter stopped her. She turned and he swayed across the room

toward her. Name of God, if he would only stop that terrible

laugh! What was there to laugh about in all of this? As he came

toward her, she backed toward the door and found herself against

the wall. He put his hands heavily upon her and pinned her

shoulders to the wall.

"Stop laughing."

"I am laughing because I am so sorry for you."

"Sorry--for me? Be sorry for yourself."

"Yes, by God, I'm sorry for you, my dear, my pretty little fool.

That hurts, doesn't it? You can't stand either laughter or pity,

can you?"

He stopped laughing, leaning so heavily against her shoulders that

they ached. His face changed and he leaned so close to her that

the heavy whisky smell of his breath made her turn her head.

"Jealous, am I?" he said. "And why not? Oh, yes, I'm jealous of

Ashley Wilkes. Why not? Oh, don't try to talk and explain. I

know you've been physically faithful 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