Chapter 62

           Sheheardwhisperingvoicesoutside,andgoingtothedoorshesawthefrightenednegroesstandinginthebackhall,DilceywithherarmssaggingundertheheavyweightofthesleepingBeau,UnclePetercrying,andCookiewipingherwidewetfaceonherapron.Allthreelookedather,dumblyaskingwhattheyweretodonow.ShelookedupthehalltowardthesittingroomandsawIndiaandAuntPittystandingspeechless,holdingeachother’shandsand,foronce,Indiahadlostherstiff-neckedlook.Likethenegroes,theylookedimploringlyather,expectinghertogiveinstructions.Shewalkedintothesittingroomandthetwowomenclosedabouther.

           "Oh,Scarlett,what—"beganAuntPitty,herfat,child’smouthshaking.

           "Don’tspeaktomeorI’llscream,"saidScarlett.Overwroughtnervesbroughtsharpnesstohervoiceandherhandsclenchedathersides.ThethoughtofspeakingofMelanienow,ofmakingtheinevitablearrangementsthatfollowadeathmadeherthroattighten."Idon’twantawordoutofeitherofyou."

           Attheauthoritativenoteinhervoice,theyfellback,helplesshurtlooksontheirfaces."Imustn’tcryinfrontofthem,"shethought."Imustn’tbreaknoworthey’llbegincryingtoo,andthenthedarkieswillbeginscreamingandwe’llallgomad.Imustpullmyselftogether.There’ssomuchI’llhavetodo.Seetheundertakerandarrangethefuneralandseethatthehouseiscleanandbeheretotalktopeoplewho’llcryonmyneck.Ashleycan’tdothem.I’vegottodothem.