"I'm not cornered," she said cuttingly. "You'll never corner me, Rhett Butler, or frighten me. You are nothing but a drunken beast who's been with bad women so long that you can't
understand anything else but badness. You can't understand Ashley or me. You've lived in dirt too long to know anything else. You are jealous of something you can't understand. Good night."
She turned casually and started toward the door and a burst of laughter stopped her. She
turned and he swayed across the room toward her. Name of God, if he would only stop that
terrible laugh! What was there to laugh about in all of this? As he came toward her, she backed toward the door and found herself against the wall. He put his hands heavily upon her and pinned her shoulders to the wall.
"Stop laughing."
"I am laughing because I am so sorry for you."
"Sorry--for me? Be sorry for yourself."
"Yes, by God, I'm sorry for you, my dear, my pretty little fool. That hurts, doesn't it? You can't stand either laughter or pity, can you?"
He stopped laughing, leaning so heavily against her shoulders that they ached. His face
changed and he leaned so close to her that the heavy whisky smell of his breath made her turn her head.
"Jealous, am I?" he said. "And why not? Oh, yes, I'm jealous of Ashley Wilkes. Why not?
Oh, don't try to talk and explain. I know you've been physically faithful to me. Was that what you were trying to say? Oh, I've known that all along. All these years. How do I know? Oh, well, I know Ashley Wilkes and his breed. I know he is honorable and a gentleman. And that my dear, is more than I can say for you--or for me, for that matter. We are not gentlemen and we have no honor, have we? That's why we flourish like green bay trees."
"Let me go. I won't stand here and be insulted."
"I'm not insulting you. I'm praising your physical virtue. And it hasn't fooled me one bit.
You think men are such fools, Scarlett. It never pays to underestimate your opponent's strength and intelligence. And I'm not a fool. Don't you suppose I know that you've lain in my arms and pretended I was Ashley Wilkes?"
Her jaw dropped and fear and astonishment were written plainly in her face.
"Pleasant thing, that. Rather ghostly, in fact. Like having three in a bed where there ought to be just two." He shook her shoulders, ever so slightly, hiccoughed and smiled mockingly.
"Oh, yes, you've been faithful to me because Ashley wouldn't have you. But, hell, I
wouldn't have grudged him your body. I know how little bodies mean--especially women's
bodies. But I do grudge him your heart and your dear, hard, unscrupulous, stubborn mind. He doesn't want your mind, the fool, and I don't want your body. I can buy women cheap. But I do want your mind and your heart, and I'll never have them, any more than you'll ever have Ashley's mind. And that's why I'm sorry for you."
Even through her fear and bewilderment, his sneer stung.
"Sorry--for me?"
"Yes, sorry because you're such a child, Scarlett. A child crying for the moon. What would a child do with the moon if it got it? And what would you do with Ashley? Yes, I'm sorry for you--sorry to see you throwing away happiness with both hands and reaching out for
something that would never make you happy. I'm sorry because you are such a fool you don't know there can't ever be happiness except when like mates like. If I were dead, if Miss Melly were dead and you had your precious honorable lover, do you think you'd be happy with him?
Hell, no! You would never know him, never know what he was thinking about, never understand him any more than you understand music and poetry and books or anything that isn't dollars and cents. Whereas, we, dear wife of my bosom, could have been perfectly happy if you had ever given us half a chance, for we are so much alike. We are both scoundrels, Scarlett, and nothing is beyond us when we want something. We could have been happy, for I loved you and I know you, Scarlett, down to your bones, in a way that Ashley could never know you. And he would despise you if he did know… But no, you must go mooning all your life after a man you cannot
understand. And I, my darling, will continue to moon after whores. And, I dare say we'll do better than most couples."
He released her abruptly and made a weaving way back toward the decanter. For a
moment, Scarlett stood rooted, thoughts tearing in and out of her mind so swiftly that she could seize none of them long enough to examine them. Rhett had said he loved her. Did he mean it?
Or was he merely drunk? Or was this one of his horrible jokes? And Ashley--the moon--crying