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Chapter 24

           Throughthewindow,inthefaintlightoftherisingmoon,Tarastretchedbeforeher,negroesgone,acresdesolate,barnsruined,likeabodybleedingunderhereyes,likeherownbody,slowlybleeding.Thiswastheendoftheroad,quiveringoldage,sickness,hungrymouths,helplesshandspluckingatherskirts.Andattheendofthisroad,therewasnothingnothingbutScarlettO’HaraHamilton,nineteenyearsold,awidowwithalittlechild.

           Whatwouldshedowithallofthis?AuntPittyandtheBurrsinMaconcouldtakeMelanieandherbaby.Ifthegirlsrecovered,Ellen’sfamilywouldhavetotakethem,whethertheylikeditornot.AndsheandGeraldcouldturntoUncleJamesandAndrew.

           Shelookedatthethinforms,tossingbeforeher,thesheetsaboutthemmoistanddarkfromdrippingwater.ShedidnotlikeSuellen.Shesawitnowwithasuddenclarity.Shehadneverlikedher.ShedidnotespeciallyloveCarreenshecouldnotloveanyonewhowasweak.Buttheywereofherblood,partofTara.No,shecouldnotletthemliveouttheirlivesintheiraunts’homesaspoorrelations.AnO’Haraapoorrelation,livingoncharitybreadandsufferance!Oh,neverthat!

           Wastherenoescapefromthisdeadend?Hertiredbrainmovedsoslowly.Sheraisedherhandstoherheadaswearilyasiftheairwerewateragainstwhichherarmsstruggled.Shetookthegourdfrombetweentheglassandbottleandlookedinit.Therewassomewhiskyleftinthebottom,howmuchshecouldnottellintheuncertainlight.

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