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Chapter 17

           Muchgoodthisdidher,forthatworthymatron,hersleevesrolledup,herstoutfigureswathedinalargeapron,gaveheronesharplookandsaid:"Don’tletmehearanymoresuchfoolishness,ScarlettHamilton.I’llwriteyourmothertodayandtellherhowmuchweneedyou,andI’msureshe’llunderstandandletyoustay.Now,putonyourapronandtrotovertoDr.Meade.Heneedssomeonetohelpwiththedressings."

           "Oh,God,"thoughtScarlettdrearily,"that’sjustthetrouble.MotherwillmakemestayhereandIshalldieifIhavetosmellthesestinksanylonger!IwishIwasanoldladysoIcouldbullytheyoungones,insteadofgettingbulliedandtelloldcatslikeMrs.MerriwethertogotoHalifax!"

           Yes,shewassickofthehospital,thefoulsmells,thelice,theaching,unwashedbodies.Iftherehadeverbeenanynoveltyandromanceaboutnursing,thathadwornoffayearago.Besides,thesemenwoundedintheretreatwerenotsoattractiveastheearlieroneshadbeen.Theydidn’tshowtheslightestinterestinherandtheyhadverylittletosaybeyond:"How’sthefightin’goin’?What’sOldJoedoin’now?Mightycleverfellow,OldJoe."Shedidn’tthinkOldJoeamightycleverfellow.AllhehaddonewaslettheYankeespenetrateeighty-eightmilesintoGeorgia.No,theywerenotanattractivelot.Moreover,manyofthemweredying,dyingswiftly,silently,havinglittlestrengthlefttocombatthebloodpoisoning,gangrene,typhoidandpneumoniawhichhadsetinbeforetheycouldreachAtlantaandadoctor.

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