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Chapter 8

           UnclePeterclearedhisthroat.

           "MissPittywereinastatewhenAhlef’homean’efAhdoangitdarsoon,she’lldoneswooned."

           "Good-by.I’llbeoverthisafternoon,"calledMrs.Meade."AndyoutellPittyformethatifyouaren’tonmycommittee,she’sgoingtobeinaworsestate."

           ThecarriageslippedandsliddownthemuddyroadandScarlettleanedbackonthecushionsandsmiled.Shefeltbetternowthanshehadfeltinmonths.Atlanta,withitscrowdsanditshurryanditsundercurrentofdrivingexcitement,wasverypleasant,veryexhilarating,soverymuchnicerthanthelonelyplantationoutfromCharleston,wherethebellowofalligatorsbrokethenightstillness;betterthanCharlestonitself,dreaminginitsgardensbehinditshighwalls;betterthanSavannahwithitswidestreetslinedwithpalmettoandthemuddyriverbesideit.Yes,andtemporarilyevenbetterthanTara,dearthoughTarawas.

           Therewassomethingexcitingaboutthistownwithitsnarrowmuddystreets,lyingamongrollingredhills,somethingrawandcrudethatappealedtotherawnessandcrudenessunderlyingthefineveneerthatEllenandMammyhadgivenher.Shesuddenlyfeltthatthiswaswhereshebelonged,notinsereneandquietoldcities,flatbesideyellowwaters.

           Thehouseswerefartherandfartherapartnow,andleaningoutScarlettsawtheredbrickandslateroofofMissPittypat’shouse.Itwasalmostthelasthouseonthenorthsideoftown.Beyondit,Peachtreeroadnarrowedandtwistedundergreattreesoutofsightintothickquietwoods.Theneatwooden-paneledfencehadbeennewlypaintedwhiteandthefrontyarditinclosedwasyellowstarredwiththelastjonquilsoftheseason.

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