Did it ever occur to you that I loved you as much as a man can love a woman? Loved you for years before I finally got you? During the war I'd go away and try to forget you, but I couldn't and I always had to come back. After the war I risked arrest, just to come back and find you. I cared so much I believe I would have killed Frank Kennedy if he hadn't died when he did. I loved you but I couldn't let you know it. You're so brutal to those who love you, Scarlett. You take their love and hold it over their heads like a whip."
"It was so obvious that we were meant for each other. So obvious that I was the only man of your acquaintance who could love you after knowing you as you really are--hard and greedy and unscrupulous, like me. I loved you and I took the chance. I thought Ashley would fade out of your mind. But,"he shrugged,"I tried everything I knew and nothing worked. And I loved you so, Scarlett. If you had only let me, I could have loved you as gently and as tenderly as ever a man loved a woman. But I couldn't let you know, for I knew you'd think me weak and try to use my love against me. And always--always there was Ashley. It drove me crazy. I couldn't sit across the table from you every night, knowing you wished Ashley was sitting there in my place. And I couldn't hold you in my arms at night and know that--well, it doesn't matter now. I wonder, now, why it hurt. That'swhatdrove me to Belle. Thereisa certain swinish comfort in being with a woman who loves you utterly and respects you for being a fine gentleman--even if sheisan illiterate whore. It soothed my vanity. You've never been very soothing, my dear."
"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 knewwhata fool I'd been and that it was all over."
"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."
"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."
"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."
"Scarlett, I was never one to patiently pick upbrokenfragments and glue them together and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new.Whatisbrokenisbroken--and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see thebrokenplaces as long as I lived. Perhaps, if I were younger--"he sighed."But I'm too old to believe in such sentimentalities as clean slates and starting all over. I'm too old to shoulder the burden of constant lies that go with living in polite disillusionment. I couldn't live with you and lie to you and I certainly couldn't lie to myself. I can't even lie to you now. I wish I could carewhatyou do or where you go, but I can't."
"It was so obvious that we were meant for each other. So obvious that I was the only man of your acquaintance who could love you after knowing you as you really are--hard and greedy and unscrupulous, like me. I loved you and I took the chance. I thought Ashley would fade out of your mind. But,"he shrugged,"I tried everything I knew and nothing worked. And I loved you so, Scarlett. If you had only let me, I could have loved you as gently and as tenderly as ever a man loved a woman. But I couldn't let you know, for I knew you'd think me weak and try to use my love against me. And always--always there was Ashley. It drove me crazy. I couldn't sit across the table from you every night, knowing you wished Ashley was sitting there in my place. And I couldn't hold you in my arms at night and know that--well, it doesn't matter now. I wonder, now, why it hurt. That'swhatdrove me to Belle. Thereisa certain swinish comfort in being with a woman who loves you utterly and respects you for being a fine gentleman--even if sheisan illiterate whore. It soothed my vanity. You've never been very soothing, my dear."
"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 knewwhata fool I'd been and that it was all over."
"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."
"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."
"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."
"Scarlett, I was never one to patiently pick upbrokenfragments and glue them together and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new.Whatisbrokenisbroken--and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see thebrokenplaces as long as I lived. Perhaps, if I were younger--"he sighed."But I'm too old to believe in such sentimentalities as clean slates and starting all over. I'm too old to shoulder the burden of constant lies that go with living in polite disillusionment. I couldn't live with you and lie to you and I certainly couldn't lie to myself. I can't even lie to you now. I wish I could carewhatyou do or where you go, but I can't."
