"That's the most low-down, filthy story I ever...
"That's
the most low-down, filthy story I ever heard in my lifeYou disgust
me, Bill ú WellerAll of you disgust meWhat do you know about
Southerners-about decent people anywhere? You've never had a
decent
thought or done a decent thing in all your lives!" She pushed with
hands outstretched through the thunderstruck men and women who
had
gathered around Weller, then ran, rubbing her hands on her skirts to
wipe off the stain of having touched themThe dining room and the
glittering silver dishes of elaborate food were in front of her; her
gorge rose at the mixed smells of rich, greasy sauces and spattered
spittoonsShe saw in her mind the lamplit table at the Fontaines',
the simple meal of home-cured ham and home-made corn bread and
home-grown greensShe belonged with them; they were her chanel jewelry people,
not
these vulgar, trashy, flashy women and menScarlett turned to face
Weller and hisgroup"That's what you areGet out of my house, get out of my sight, you make me sick!"
Mamie Bart made the mistake of trying to soothe her"Come on,
honey-"
she said, holding out her jewelled handScarlett recoiled before she
could be touched
"Especially you, you greasy sow"Well, I never," Mamie Bart's voice
quavered"I'm damn well not going to put up with being talked to like
thisI wouldn't stay if you begged me on your knees, Scarlett
Butler A shoving, angry stampede began, and in less than ten
minutes
the rooms were empty of everything except the debris left behind
Scarlett made her way through spilled food and champagne, broken
plates
and glasses, without looking downShe must keep her head miu miu black bag high, the
way her mother had taught herShe imagined that she was back at
Tara,
with a heavy volume of the Waverley novels balanced on her head,
and
she climbed the stairs with her back as straight as a tree, her chin
perfectly perpendicular to her shouldersThe way her
mother had taught herHer head was swimming and her legs
trembled,
but she climbed without pausingA lady never let it show when she
was
tired or upset"High time she did that, and then some," said the
cornetistThe octet had played waltzes from behind the palms for
many
of Scarlett's receptionsOne of the violinists spat accurately into a
potted palmLie down with dogs, get up with
fleas Above their heads Scarlett was lying face down on her
silkcovered bed, sobbing as if her heart was broken
She had thought she was going to vintage omega watches have such a good timeLater that
night, when the house was quiet and dark, Scarlett went downstairs
for
a drink to help her sleepAll evidence of the party was gone, except
for the elaborate flower arrangements and the half-burned candles in
the six-armed candelabra on the bare dining room table
Scarlett lit the candles and blew out her lampWhy should she skulk
around in near-darkness like some kind of thief? It was her house, her
brandy, and she could do as she pleasedShe selected a glass, took it
and the decanter to the table, sat in the armchair at the headIt was
her table, tooThe brandy sent a relaxing warmth through her bodyAnother drink, and my nerves should
stop
jumping around like they're doingShe filled the elegant little
cordial glass again, tossed the brandy down her throat balenciaga bag with a deft
twist of the wristMustn't hurry, she thought, pouringShe sipped her third drink
How pretty the candlelight was, lovely golden flames reflected in the
polished tabletopThe empty glass was pretty, tooIts cut facets
made rainbows when she turned it in her fingersIt was as quiet as
the graveThe clink of glass against glass made her jump when she
poured the brandyThat proved she needed the drink, didn't it? She
was still too jumpy to sleepThe candles burned low and the decanter
slowly emptied and Scarlett's usual control over her mind and memory
was loosenedThis was the room where it had all begunThe table
had
been bare like this with only candles on it and the silver tray that
held brandy decanter and glassesShe'd never
seen
him really drunk like that, he could always hold louis vuitton gm bag hisliq