Those damned nigger lovers daring to come here and taunt her about her poverty! That houndnever intended offering her a price for Tara. He just used that as an excuse to come and flaunt himself and Emmie in her face. The dirty Scalawags, the lousy trashy poor whites, boasting theywould live at Tara!
Then, sudden terror struck her and her rage melted. God’s nightgown! They will come and livehere! There was nothing she could do to keep them from buying Tara, nothing to keep them fromlevying on every mirror and table and bed, on Ellen’s shining mahogany and rosewood, and everybit of it precious to her, scarred though it was by the Yankee raiders. And the Robillard silver too. Iwon’t let them do it, thought Scarlett vehemently. No, not if I’ve got to burn the place down!
Emmie Slattery will never set her foot on a single bit of flooring Mother ever walked on!
She closed the door and leaned against it and she was very frightened. More frightened eventhan she had been that day when Sherman’s army was in the house. That day the worst she couldfear was that Tara would be burned over her head. But this was worse—these low commoncreatures living in this house, friends how they had turned the proudO’Haras out. Perhaps they’d even bring negroes here to dine and sleep. Will had told her Jonasmade a great to-do about being equal with the negroes, ate with them, visited in their houses, rodethem around with him in his carriage, put his arms around their shoulders.
When she thought of the possibility of this final insult to Tara, her heart pounded so hard shecould scarcely breathe. She was trying to get her mind on her problem, trying to figure some wayout, but each time she collected her thoughts, fresh gusts of rage and fear shook her. There must besome way out, there must be someone somewhere who had money she could borrow. Moneycouldn’t just dry up and blow away. Somebody had to have money. Then the laughing words ofAshley came back to her:
“Only one person, Rhett Butler … who has money.”
Rhett Butler. She walked quickly into the parlor and shut the door behind her. The dim gloom ofdrawn blinds and winter twilight closed about her. No one would think of hunting for her here andshe wanted time to think, undisturbed. The idea which had just occurred to her was so simple shewondered why she had not thought of it before.
“I’ll get the money from Rhett. I’ll sell him the diamond earbobs. Or I’ll borrow the money fromhim and let him keep the earbobs till I can pay him back.”
For a moment, relief was so great she felt weak. She would pay the taxes and laugh in JonasWilkerson’s face. But close on this happy thought came relentless knowledge.
“It’s not only for this year that I’ll need tax money. There’s next year and all the years of my life.
If I pay up this time, they’ll raise the taxes higher next time till they drive me out. If I make a goodcotton crop, they’ll tax it till I’ll get nothing for it or maybe confiscate it outright and say it’sConfederate cotton. The Yankees and the scoundrels teamed up with them have got me where theywant me. All my life, as long as I live, I’ll be afraid they’ll get me somehow. All my life I’ll bescared and scrambling for money and working myself to death, only to see my work go for nothingand my cotton stolen. ... Just borrowing three hundred dollars for the taxes will be only a stopgap.
What I want is to get out of this fix, for good—so I can go to sleep at night without worrying overwhat’s going to happen to me tomorrow, and next month, and next year.”
Her mind ticked on steadily. Coldly and logically an idea grew in her brain. She thought of Rhett, Neo skin lab a flash of white teeth against swarthy skin, sardonic black eyes caressing her. She recalledthe hot night in Atlanta, close to the end of the siege, when he sat on Aunt Pitty’s porch half hiddenin the summer darkness, and she felt again the heat of his hand upon her arm as he said: “I wantyou more than I have ever wanted any woman—and I’ve waited longer for you than I’ve everwaited for any woman.”
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