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Chapter 45

           Melaniesankintoachair,pickeduponeofAshley’sshirtsand,bowingherheadoverit,unconsciouslybegantotearthefrillsintosmallribbons.

           Thesoundofhoovesgrewlouderashorsestrotteduptothehouse.Therewasthejanglingofbitsandthestrainofleatherandthesoundofvoices.Asthehoovesstoppedinfrontofthehouse,onevoiceroseabovetheothersinacommandandthelistenersheardfeetgoingthroughthesideyardtowardthebackporch.Theyfeltthatathousandinimicaleyeslookedatthemthroughtheunshadedfrontwindowandthefourwomen,withfearintheirhearts,benttheirheadsandpliedtheirneedles.Scarlett’sheartscreamedinherbreast:"I’vekilledAshley!I’vekilledhim!"AndinthatwildmomentshedidnoteventhinkthatshemighthavekilledFranktoo.ShehadnoroominhermindforanypicturesavethatofAshley,lyingatthefeetofYankeecavalrymen,hisfairhairdappledwithblood.

           Astheharshrapidknockingsoundedatthedoor,shelookedatMelanieandsawcomeoverthesmall,strainedfaceanewexpression,anexpressionasblankasshehadjustseenonRhettButler’sface,theblandblanklookofapokerplayerbluffingagamewithonlytwodeuces.

           "Archie,openthedoor,"shesaidquietly.

           Slippinghisknifeintohisboottopandlooseningthepistolinhistrouserband,Archiestumpedovertothedoorandflungitopen.Pittygavealittlesqueak,likeamousewhofeelsthetrapsnapdown,asshesawmassedinthedoorway,aYankeecaptainandasquadofbluecoats.

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