Interest. My pretty, there are penalties in the business world for

crooked dealing. You should have played straight with me."

"You're a fine man, aren't you? So rich and powerful yet picking

on people who are down, like Ashley and me!"

"Don't put yourself in his class. You aren't down. Nothing will

down you. But he is down and he'll stay there unless there's some

energetic person behind him, guiding and protecting him as long as

he lives. I'm of no mind to have my money used for the benefit of

such a person."

"You didn't mind helping me and I was down and--"

"You were a good risk, my dear, an interesting risk. Why? Because

you didn't plump yourself down on your male relatives and sob for

the old days. You got out and hustled and now your fortunes are

firmly planted on money stolen from a dead man's wallet and money

stolen from the Confederacy. You've got murder to your credit, and

husband stealing, attempted fornication, lying and sharp dealing

and any amount of chicanery that won't bear close inspection.

Admirable things, all of them. They show you to be a person of

energy and determination and a good money risk. It's entertaining,

helping people who help themselves. I'd lend ten thousand dollars

without even a note to that old Roman matron, Mrs. Merriwether.

She started with a basket of pies and look at her now! A bakery

employing half a dozen people, old Grandpa happy with his delivery

wagon and that lazy little Creole, Rene, working hard and liking

It. . . . Or that poor devil, Tommy Wellburn, who does two men's

work with half a man's body and does it well or--well, I won't go

on and bore you."

"You do bore me. You bore me to distraction," said Scarlett

coldly, hoping to annoy him and divert him from the ever-

unfortunate subject of Ashley. But he only laughed shortly and

refused to take up the gauntlet.

"People like them are worth helping. But Ashley Wilkes--bah! His

breed is of no use or value in an upside-down world like ours.

Whenever the world up-ends, his kind is the first to perish. And

why not? They don't deserve to survive because they won't fight--

don't know how to fight. This isn't the first time the world's

been upside down and it won't be the last. It's happened before

and it'll happen again. And when it does happen, everyone loses

everything and everyone is equal. And then they all start again at

taw, with nothing at all. That is, nothing except the cunning of

their brains and strength of their hands. But some people, like

Ashley, have neither cunning nor strength or, having them, scruple

to use them. And so they go under and they should go under. It's

a natural law and the world is better off without them. But there

are always a hardy few who come through and given time, they are

right back where they were before the world turned over."

"You've been poor! You just said that your father turned you out

without a penny!" said Scarlett, furious. "I should think you'd

understand and sympathize with Ashley!"

"I do understand," said Rhett, "but I'm damned if I sympathize.

After the surrender Ashley had much more than I had when I was

thrown out. At least, he had friends who took him in, whereas I

was Ishmael. But what has Ashley done with himself?"

"If you are comparing him with yourself, you conceited thing, why--

He's not like you, thank God! He wouldn't soil his hands as you

do, making money with Carpetbaggers and Scallawags and Yankees.

He's scrupulous and honorable!"

"But not too scrupulous and honorable to take aid and money from a

woman."

"What else could he have done?"

"Who am I to say? I only know what I did, both when I was thrown

out and nowadays. I only know what other men have done. We saw

opportunity in the ruin of a civilization and we made the most of

our opportunity, some honestly, some shadily, and we are still

making the most of it. But the Ashleys of this world have the same

chances and don't take them. They just aren't smart, Scarlett, and

only the smart deserve to survive."

She hardly heard what he was saying, for now there was coming back

to her the exact memory which had teased her a few minutes before

when he first began speaking. She remembered the cold wind that

swept the orchard of Tara and Ashley standing by a pile of rails,

his eyes looking beyond her. And he had said--what? Some funny

foreign name that sounded like profanity and had talked of the end

of the world. She had not known what he meant then but now

bewildered comprehension was coming to her and with it a sick,

weary feeling.

"Why, Ashley said--"

"Yes?"

"Once at Tara he said something about the--a--dusk of the gods and

about the end of the world and some such foolishness."

"Ah, the Gotterdammerung!" Rhett's eyes were sharp with interest.

"And what else?"

"Oh, I don't remember exactly. I wasn't paying much mind. But--

yes--something about the strong coming through and the weak being

winnowed out."

"Ah, so he knows. Then that makes it harder for him. Most of them

don't know and will never know. They'll wonder all their lives

where the lost enchantment has vanished. They'll simply suffer in

proud and incompetent silence. But he understands. He knows he's

winnowed out."

"Oh, he isn't! Not while I've got breath in my body."

He looked at her quietly and his brown face was smooth.

"Scarlett, how did you manage to get his consent to come to Atlanta

and take over the mill? Did he struggle very hard against you?"

She had a quick memory of the scene with Ashley after Gerald's

funeral and put it from her.

"Why, of course not," she replied indignantly. "When I explained

to him that I needed his help because I didn't trust that scamp who

was running the mill and Frank was too busy to help me and I was

going to--well, there was Ella Lorena, you see. He was very glad

to help me out."

"Sweet are the uses of motherhood! So that's how you got around

him. Well, you've got him where you want him now, poor devil, as

shackled to you by obligations as any of your convicts are by their

chains. And I wish you both joy. But, as I said at the beginning

of this discussion, you'll never get another cent out of me for any

of your little unladylike schemes, my double-dealing lady."

She was smarting with anger and with disappointment as well. For

some time she had been planning to borrow more money from Rhett to

buy a lot downtown and start a lumber yard there.

"I can do without your money," she cried. "I'm making money out of

Johnnie Gallegher's mill, plenty of it, now that I don't use free

darkies and I have some money out on mortgages and we are coining

cash at the store from the darky trade."

"Yes, so I heard. How clever of you to rook the helpless and the

widow and the orphan and the ignorant! But if you must steal,

Scarlett, why not steal from the rich and strong instead of the

poor and weak? From Robin Hood on down to now, that's been

considered highly moral."

"Because," said Scarlett shortly, "it's a sight easier and safer to

steal--as you call it--from the poor."

He laughed silently, his shoulders shaking.

"You're a fine honest rogue, Scarlett!"

A rogue! Queer that that term should hurt. She wasn't a rogue,

she told herself vehemently. At least, that wasn't what she wanted

to be. She wanted to be a great lady. For a moment her mind went

swiftly down the years and she saw her mother, moving with a sweet

swish of skirts and a faint fragrance of sachet, her small busy

hands tireless in the service of others, loved, respected,

cherished. And suddenly her heart was sick.

"If you are trying to devil me," she said tiredly, "it's no use. I

know I'm not as--scrupulous as I should be these days. Not as kind

and as pleasant as I was brought up to be. But I can't help it,

Rhett. Truly, I can't. What else could I have done? What would

have happened to me, to Wade, to Tara and all of us if I'd been--

gentle when that Yankee came to Tara? I should have been--but I

don't even want to think of that. And when Jonas Wilkerson was

going to take the home place, suppose I'd been--kind and

scrupulous? Where would we all be now? And if I'd been sweet and

simple minded and not nagged Frank about bad debts we'd--oh, well.

Maybe I am a rogue, but I won't be a rogue forever, Rhett. But

during these past years--and even now--what else could I have done?

How else could I have acted? I've felt that I was trying to row a

heavily loaded boat in a storm. I've had so much trouble just

trying to keep afloat that I couldn't be bothered about things that

didn't matter, things I could part with easily and not miss, like

good manners and--well, things like that. I've been too afraid my

boat would be swamped and so I've dumped overboard the things that

seemed least important."

"Pride and honor and truth and virtue and kindliness," he

enumerated silkily. "You are right, Scarlett. They aren't