Унесенные ветром

Chapter 22

           MelaniewasnotdeadandthesmallbabyboywhomadenoiseslikeayoungkittenwasreceivinghisfirstbathatPrissy’shands.Melaniewasasleep.Howcouldshesleepafterthatnightmareofscreamingpainandignorantmidwiferythathurtmorethanithelped?Whywasn’tshedead?Scarlettknewthatsheherselfwouldhavediedundersuchhandling.Butwhenitwasover,Melaniehadevenwhispered,soweaklyshehadtobendoverhertohear:"Thankyou."Andthenshehadgonetosleep.Howcouldshegotosleep?ScarlettforgotthatshetoohadgonetosleepafterWadewasborn.Sheforgoteverything.Hermindwasavacuum;theworldwasavacuum;therehadbeennolifebeforethisendlessdayandtherewouldbenonehereafteronlyaheavilyhotnight,onlythesoundofherhoarsetiredbreathing,onlythesweattricklingcoldlyfromarmpittowaist,fromhiptoknee,clammy,sticky,chilling.

           Sheheardherownbreathpassfromloudevennesstospasmodicsobbingbuthereyesweredryandburningasthoughtherewouldneverbetearsinthemagain.Slowly,laboriously,sheheavedherselfoverandpulledherheavyskirtsuptoherthighs.Shewaswarmandcoldandstickyallatthesametimeandthefeelofthenightaironherlimbswasrefreshing.ShethoughtdullywhatAuntPittywouldsay,ifshecouldseehersprawledhereonthefrontporchwithherskirtsupandherdrawersshowing,butshedidnotcare.Shedidnotcareaboutanything.Timehadstoodstill.Itmightbejustaftertwilightanditmightbemidnight.Shedidn’tknoworcare.

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