It is love which makes me so bold!"

"Do get up," she entreated. "You look such a fool and suppose

Mammy should come in and see you?"

"She would be stunned and incredulous at the first signs of my

gentility," said Rhett, arising lightly. "Come, Scarlett, you are

no child, no schoolgirl to put me off with foolish excuses about

decency and so forth. Say you'll marry me when I come back or,

before God, I won't go. I'll stay around here and play a guitar

under your window every night and 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