Chapter 47

           Scarlettsatinherbedroom,pickingatthesuppertrayMammyhadbroughther,listeningtothewindhurlingitselfoutofthenight.Thehousewasfrighteninglystill,quietereventhanwhenFrankhadlainintheparlorjustafewhoursbefore.Thentherehadbeentiptoeingfeetandhushedvoices,muffledknocksonthedoor,neighborsrustlingintowhispersympathyandoccasionalsobsfromFrank’ssisterwhohadcomeupfromJonesboroforthefuneral.

           Butnowthehousewascloakedinsilence.Althoughherdoorwasopenshecouldhearnosoundsfrombelowstairs.WadeandthebabyhadbeenatMelanie’ssinceFrank’sbodywasbroughthomeandshemissedthesoundoftheboy’sfeetandElla’sgurgling.TherewasatruceinthekitchenandnosoundofquarrelingfromPeter,MammyandCookiefloateduptoher.EvenAuntPitty,downstairsinthelibrary,wasnotrockinghercreakingchairindeferencetoScarlett’ssorrow.

           Nooneintrudeduponher,believingthatshewishedtobeleftalonewithhergrief,buttobeleftalonewasthelastthingScarlettdesired.Haditonlybeengriefthatcompanionedher,shecouldhaveborneitasshehadborneothergriefs.But,addedtoherstunnedsenseoflossatFrank’sdeath,werefearandremorseandthetormentofasuddenlyawakenedconscience.Forthefirsttimeinherlifeshewasregrettingthingsshehaddone,regrettingthemwithasweepingsuperstitiousfearthatmadehercastsidelongglancesatthebeduponwhichshehadlainwithFrank.

           ShehadkilledFrank.

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