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Chapter 32

           Somebodyhadtohavemoney.ThenthelaughingwordsofAshleycamebacktoher:

           "Onlyoneperson,RhettButler...whohasmoney."

           RhettButler.Shewalkedquicklyintotheparlorandshutthedoorbehindher.Thedimgloomofdrawnblindsandwintertwilightclosedabouther.Noonewouldthinkofhuntingforherhereandshewantedtimetothink,undisturbed.Theideawhichhadjustoccurredtoherwassosimpleshewonderedwhyshehadnotthoughtofitbefore.

           "I’llgetthemoneyfromRhett.I’llsellhimthediamondearbobs.OrI’llborrowthemoneyfromhimandlethimkeeptheearbobstillIcanpayhimback."

           Foramoment,reliefwassogreatshefeltweak.ShewouldpaythetaxesandlaughinJonasWilkerson’sface.Butcloseonthishappythoughtcamerelentlessknowledge.

           "It’snotonlyforthisyearthatI’llneedtaxmoney.There’snextyearandalltheyearsofmylife.IfIpayupthistime,they’llraisethetaxeshighernexttimetilltheydrivemeout.IfImakeagoodcottoncrop,they’lltaxittillI’llgetnothingforitormaybeconfiscateitoutrightandsayit’sConfederatecotton.TheYankeesandthescoundrelsteamedupwiththemhavegotmewheretheywantme.Allmylife,aslongasIlive,I’llbeafraidthey’llgetmesomehow.AllmylifeI’llbescaredandscramblingformoneyandworkingmyselftodeath,onlytoseemyworkgofornothingandmycottonstolen....Justborrowingthreehundreddollarsforthetaxeswillbeonlyastopgap.

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