"Oh, Rhett …" she began, miserable at the very mention of Belle's name, but he waved her to silence and went on.
"And then, that night when I carried you upstairs--I thought--I hoped--I hoped so much I was afraid to face you the next morning, for fear I'd been mistaken and you didn't love me. I was so afraid you'd laugh at me I went off and got drunk. And when I came back, I was shaking in my
boots and if you had come even halfway to meet me, had given me some sign, I think I'd have kissed your feet. But you didn't."
"Oh, but Rhett, I did want you then but you were so nasty! I did want you! I think--yes, that must have been when I first knew I cared about you. Ashley--I never was happy about
Ashley after that, but you were so nasty that I--"
"Oh, well," he said. "It seems we've been at cross purposes, doesn't it? But it doesn't matter now. I'm only telling you, so you won't ever wonder about it all. When you were sick and it was all my fault, I stood outside your door, hoping you'd call for me, but you didn't, and then I knew what a fool I'd been and that it was all over."
He stopped and looked through her and beyond her, even as Ashley had often done,
seeing something she could not see. And she could only stare speechless at his brooding face.
"But then, there was Bonnie and I saw that everything wasn't over, after all. I liked to think that Bonnie was you, a little girl again, before the war and poverty had done things to you.
She was so like you, so willful, so brave and gay and full of high spirits, and I could pet her and spoil her--just as I wanted to pet you. But she wasn't like you--she loved me. It was a blessing that I could take the love you didn't want and give it to her … When she went, she took everything."
Suddenly she was sorry for him, sorry with a completeness that wiped out her own grief
and her fear of what his words might mean. It was the first time in her life she had been sorry for anyone without feeling contemptuous as well, because it was the first time she had ever
approached understanding any other human being. And she could understand his shrewd
caginess, so like her own, his obstinate pride that kept him from admitting his love for fear of a rebuff.
"Ah, darling," she said coming forward, hoping he would put out his arms and draw her to his knees. "Darling, I'm so sorry but I'll make it all up to you! We can be so happy, now that we know the truth and--Rhett--look at me, Rhett! There--there can be other babies--not like Bonnie but--"
"Thank you, no," said Rhett, as if he were refusing a piece of bread. "I'll not risk my heart a third time."
"Rhett, don't say such things! Oh, what can I say to make you understand? I've told you how sorry I am--"
"My darling, you're such a child. You think that by saying, 'I'm sorry,' all the errors and hurts of years past can be remedied, obliterated from the mind, all the poison drawn from old wounds… Take my handkerchief, Scarlett. Never, at any crisis of your life, have I known you to have a handkerchief."
She took the handkerchief, blew her nose and sat down. It was obvious that he was not
going to take her in his arms. It was beginning to be obvious that all his talk about loving her meant nothing. It was a tale of a time long past and he was looking at it as though it had never happened to him. And that was frightening. He looked at her in an almost kindly way, speculation in his eyes.
"How old are you, my dear? You never would tell me."
"Twenty-eight," she answered dully, muffled in the handkerchief.
"That's not a vast age. It's a young age to have gained the whole world and lost your own soul, isn't it? Don't look frightened. I'm not referring to hell fire to come for your affair with Ashley. I'm merely speaking metaphorically. Ever since I've known you, you've wanted two
things. Ashley and to be rich enough to tell the world to go to hell. Well, you are rich enough and
you've spoken sharply to the world and you've got Ashley, if you want him. But all that doesn't seem to be enough now."
She was frightened but not at the thought of hell fire. She was thinking: "But Rhett is my soul and I'm losing him. And if I lose him, nothing else matters! No, not friends or money or--or anything. If only I had him I wouldn't even mind being poor again. No, I wouldn't mind being cold again or even hungry. But he can't mean--Oh, he can't!"
She wiped her eyes and said desperately:
"Rhett, if you once loved me so much, there must be something left for me."
"Out of it all I find only two things that remain and they are the two things you hate the most--pity and an odd feeling of kindness."