Chapter 39

           Thetrainwasverylateandthelong,deeplybluetwilightofJunewassettlingoverthecountrysidewhenScarlettalightedinJonesboro.Yellowgleamsoflamplightshowedinthestoresandhouseswhichremainedinthevillage,buttheywerefew.Hereandtherewerewidegapsbetweenthebuildingsonthemainstreetwheredwellingshadbeenshelledorburned.Ruinedhouseswithshellholesintheirroofsandhalfthewallstornawaystaredather,silentanddark.AfewsaddlehorsesandmuleteamswerehitchedoutsidethewoodenawningofBullard’sstore.Thedustyredroadwasemptyandlifeless,andtheonlysoundsinthevillagewereafewwhoopsanddrunkenlaughsthatfloatedonthestilltwilightairfromasaloonfardownthestreet.

           Thedepothadnotbeenrebuiltsinceitwasburnedinthebattleandinitsplacewasonlyawoodenshelter,withnosidestokeepouttheweather.Scarlettwalkedunderitandsatdownononeoftheemptykegsthatwereevidentlyputthereforseats.ShepeeredupanddownthestreetforWillBenteen.Willshouldhavebeenheretomeether.HeshouldhaveknownshewouldtakethefirsttrainpossibleafterreceivinghislaconicmessagethatGeraldwasdead.

           Shehadcomesohurriedlythatshehadinhersmallcarpetbagonlyanightgownandatoothbrush,notevenachangeofunderwear.ShewasuncomfortableinthetightblackdressshehadborrowedfromMrs.Meade,forshehadhadnotimetogetmourningclothesforherself.Mrs.Meadewasthinnow,andScarlett’spregnancybeingadvanced,thedresswasdoublyuncomfortable.

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