Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром

No, she was not happy now as just being present was not enough. She was at the bazaar but not a part of it. No one paid her any attention. And all her life she had enjoyed the center of the stage. It wasn’t fair! She was seventeen years old and her feet were patting the floor, wanting to dance.

Every girl in Atlanta could have a man. Even the plainest girls were carrying on like belles – and, oh, worst of all, they were wearing such lovely, lovely dresses!

Here she sat like a crow with black taffeta to her wrists and buttoned up to her chin, watching tacky-looking girls hanging on the arms of good-looking men. All because Charles Hamilton had had the measles. He didn’t even die in battle, so she could brag about him.

She leaned her elbows on the counter and looked at the crowd.

For a brief moment she considered the unfairness of it all. How short was the time for fun, for pretty clothes, for dancing, for coquetting! Only a few, too few years! Then you married and wore dull-colored dresses and only emerged to dance with your husband or with old gentlemen who stepped on your feet. If you didn’t do these things, the other matrons talked about you and then your reputation was ruined and your family disgraced.

How wonderful it would be never to marry but to go on being lovely in pale green dresses and forever courted by handsome men. But, if you went on too long, you got to be an old maid and everyone said “poor thing” in that hateful way. No, after all it was better to marry and keep your self-respect even if you never had any more fun.

Oh, what a mess life was! Why had she been such an idiot as to marry Charles of all people and have her life end at sixteen?

There were crowds in front of every other counter but theirs, girls chattering, men buying. The few who came to them talked about how they went to the university with Ashley and what a fine soldier he was or spoke in respectful tones of Charles and how great a loss to Atlanta his death had been.

Then the music broke into the sounds of “Johnny Booker, he’p dis Nigger!” and Scarlett thought she would scream. She wanted to dance. She looked across the floor and tapped her foot to the music and her green eyes blazed eagerly. All the way across the floor, a man, newly come and standing in the doorway, saw them and started in recognition. Then he grinned to himself as he recognized the invitation that any male could read.

He was a tall man, towering over the officers who stood near him. And he stared at Scarlett, until finally, feeling his gaze, she looked toward him.

Somewhere in her mind, the bell of recognition rang[36 - он показался ей знакомым], but for the moment she could not recall who he was. But he was the first man in months who had displayed an interest in her, and she threw him a gay smile. Suddenly, she knew who he was.

Thunderstruck, she stood as if paralyzed while he made his way through the crowd. Then, she tried to run away, but her skirt caught on a nail of the booth. She jerked furiously at it, tearing it and, in an instant, he was beside her.

“Permit me,” he said bending over. “I hardly hoped that you would recall me, Miss O’Hara.”

His voice was oddly pleasant to the ear. She looked up at him, her face red with the shame of their last meeting, and met his eyes, dancing in merciless merriment. Of all the people in the world to turn up here, this terrible person who had witnessed that scene with Ashley, who had said, and with good cause, that she was not a lady.

At the sound of his voice, Melanie turned and for the first time in her life Scarlett thanked God for the existence of her sister-in-law.

“Why – it’s – it’s Mr. Rhett Butler, isn’t it?” said Melanie with a little smile, putting out her hand. “I met you —”

“On the happy occasion of the announcement of your engagement,” he finished, bending over her hand. “It is kind of you to recall me.”

“And what are you doing so far from Charleston, Mr. Butler?”

“A boring matter of business, Mrs. Wilkes. I will be in and out of your town from now on[37 - Отныне я буду периодически появляться в вашем городе.]. I find I must not only bring in goods but supervise the use of them.”

“Bring in —” Melly broke into a delighted smile. “Why, you – you must be the famous Captain Butler we’ve been hearing so much about – the blockade runner. Why, every girl here is wearing dresses you brought in. Scarlett, aren’t you excited – what’s the matter, dear? Are you faint? Do sit down.”

Scarlett sank to the stool. Oh, what a terrible thing to happen! She had never thought to meet this man again. He took her black fan from the counter and began fanning her, his face grave but his eyes still dancing.

“It is quite warm in here,” he said. “No wonder Miss O’Hara is faint. May I lead you to a window?”

“No,” said Scarlett, so rudely that Melly stared.

“She is not Miss O’Hara any longer,” said Melly. “She is Mrs. Hamilton. She is my sister now.”

“Your husbands are here tonight, I trust, on this happy occasion? It would be a pleasure to renew acquaintances.”