Gone with the Wind / Унесённые ветром. Маргарет Митчелл

href="#n_36" type="note">[36], 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]. 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.”