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Chapter 20

           People’sfaceslookedpinchedandthefewsoldiersScarlettsawworetheexhaustedlookofracersforcingthemselvesonthroughthelastlapofaracealreadylost.

           ThelastdayofAugustcameandwithitconvincingrumorsthatthefiercestfightingsincethebattleofAtlantawastakingplace.Somewheretothesouth.Atlanta,waitingfornewsoftheturnofbattle,stoppedeventryingtolaughandjoke.EveryoneknewnowwhatthesoldiershadknowntwoweeksbeforethatAtlantawasinthelastditch,thatiftheMaconrailroadfell,Atlantawouldfalltoo.

           OnthemorningofthefirstofSeptember,Scarlettawokewithasuffocatingsenseofdreaduponher,adreadshehadtakentoherpillowthenightbefore.Shethought,dulledwithsleep:"WhatwasitIwasworryingaboutwhenIwenttobedlastnight?Oh,yes,thefighting.Therewasabattle,somewhere,yesterday!Oh,whowon?"Shesatuphastily,rubbinghereyes,andherworriedhearttookupyesterday’sloadagain.

           Theairwasoppressiveevenintheearlymorninghour,hotwiththescorchingpromiseofanoonofglaringblueskyandpitilessbronzesun.Theroadoutsidelaysilent.Nowagonscreakedby.Notroopsraisedthereddustwiththeirtrampingfeet.Therewerenosoundsofnegroes’lazyvoicesinneighboringkitchens,nopleasantsoundsofbreakfastsbeingprepared,forallthenearneighborsexceptMrs.MeadeandMrs.MerriwetherhadrefugeedtoMacon.Andshecouldhearnothingfromtheirhouseseither.

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