Chapter 31

           OnacoldJanuaryafternoonin1866,ScarlettsatintheofficewritingalettertoAuntPitty,explainingindetailforthetenthtimewhyneithershe,MelanienorAshleycouldcomebacktoAtlantatolivewithher.ShewroteimpatientlybecausesheknewAuntPittywouldreadnofartherthantheopeninglinesandthenwriteheragain,wailing:"ButI’mafraidtolivebymyself!"

           Herhandswerechilledandshepausedtorubthemtogetherandtoscuffherfeetdeeperintothestripofoldquiltingwrappedaboutthem.Thesolesofherslipperswerepracticallygoneandwerereinforcedwithpiecesofcarpet.Thecarpetkeptherfeetoffthefloorbutdidlittletokeepthemwarm.ThatmorningWillhadtakenthehorsetoJonesborotogethimshod.Scarlettthoughtgrimlythatthingswereindeedataprettypasswhenhorseshadshoesandpeople’sfeetwereasbareasyarddogs’.

           ShepickedupherquilltoresumeherwritingbutlaiditdownwhensheheardWillcominginatthebackdoor.Sheheardthethump-thumpofhiswoodenleginthehalloutsidetheofficeandthenhestopped.Shewaitedforamomentforhimtoenterandwhenhemadenomoveshecalledtohim.Hecamein,hisearsredfromthecold,hispinkishhairawry,andstoodlookingdownather,afaintlyhumoroussmileonhislips.

           "MissScarlett,"hequestioned,"justhowmuchcashmoneyhaveyougot?"

           "Areyougoingtotrytomarrymeformymoney,Will?"sheaskedsomewhatcrossly.

           "No,Ma’m.ButIjustwantedtoknow."

           Shestaredathiminquiringly.