Chapter 27

           Onanoondayinmid-November,theyallsatgroupedaboutthedinnertable,eatingthelastofthedessertconcoctedbyMammyfromcornmealanddriedhuckleberries,sweetenedwithsorghum.Therewasachillintheair,thefirstchilloftheyear,andPork,standingbehindScarlett’schair,rubbedhishandstogetheringleeandquestioned:"Ain’it‘bouttimeferdehawgkillin’,MissScarlett?"

           "Youcantastethosechitlinsalready,can’tyou?"saidScarlettwithagrin."Well,Icantastefreshporkmyselfandiftheweatherholdsforafewdaysmore,we’ll—"

           Melanieinterrupted,herspoonatherlips,

           "Listen,dear!Somebody’scoming!"

           "Somebodyhollerin’,"saidPorkuneasily.

           Onthecrispautumnaircameclearthesoundofhorse’shooves,thuddingasswiftlyasafrightenedheart,andawoman’svoice,highpitched,screaming:"Scarlett!Scarlett!"

           Eyemeteyeforadreadfulsecondaroundthetablebeforechairswerepushedbackandeveryoneleapedup.Despitethefearthatmadeitshrill,theyrecognizedthevoiceofSallyFontainewho,onlyanhourbefore,hadstoppedatTaraforabriefchatonherwaytoJonesboro.Now,astheyallrushedpell-melltocrowdthefrontdoor,theysawhercomingupthedrivelikethewindonalatheredhorse,herhairstreamingbehindher,herbonnetdanglingbyitsribbons.Shedidnotdrawreinbutasshegallopedmadlytowardthem,shewavedherarmbackinthedirectionfromwhichshehadcome.