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Chapter 25

           ThroughouttheSouthforfiftyyearstherewouldbebitter-eyedwomenwholookedbackward,todeadtimes,todeadmen,evokingmemoriesthathurtandwerefutile,bearingpovertywithbitterpridebecausetheyhadthosememories.ButScarlettwasnevertolookback.

           Shegazedattheblackenedstonesand,forthelasttime,shesawTwelveOaksrisebeforehereyesasithadoncestood,richandproud,symbolofaraceandawayofliving.ThenshestarteddowntheroadtowardTara,theheavybasketcuttingintoherflesh.

           Hungergnawedatheremptystomachagainandshesaidaloud:"AsGodismywitness,asGodismywitness,theYankeesaren’tgoingtolickme.I’mgoingtolivethroughthis,andwhenit’sover,I’mnevergoingtobehungryagain.No,noranyofmyfolks.IfIhavetostealorkillasGodismywitness,I’mnevergoingtobehungryagain."

           Inthedaysthatfollowed,TaramighthavebeenCrusoe’sdesertisland,sostillitwas,soisolatedfromtherestoftheworld.Theworldlayonlyafewmilesaway,butathousandmilesoftumblingwavesmighthavestretchedbetweenTaraandJonesboroandFayettevilleandLovejoy,evenbetweenTaraandtheneighbors’plantations.Withtheoldhorsedead,theironemodeofconveyancewasgone,andtherewasneithertimenorstrengthforwalkingthewearyredmiles.

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