God Help The Man Who Ever Really

Take My Handkerchief, Scarlett. Never, At Any Crisis Of Your Life, Have I Known You To Have A Handkerchief.

Scarlett's Mind Went Back Through The Years To The Still Hot Noon At Tara When Grey Smoke Curled Above A Blue-clad Body And Melanie Stood At The Top Of The Stairs With Charles' Sabre In Her Hand. Scarlett Remembered That She Had Thought At The Time: 'how Silly! Melly Couldn't Even Heft That Sword!' But Now She Knew That Had The Necessity Arisen, Melanie Would Have Charged Down Those Stairs And Killed The Yankee - Or Been Killed Herself.

[yankees] Are Pretty Much Like Southerners Except With Worse Manners, Of Course, And Terrible Accents.

Fo' Gawd, Miss Scarlett! We's Got Ter Have A Doctah. Ah- Ah- Miss Scarlett, Ah Doan Know Nuthin' 'bout Bringin' Babies. -prissy

It Was Not Often That She Was Alone Like This And She Did Not Like It. When She Was Alone She Had To Think And, These Days, Thoughts Were Not So Pleasant.