Rhett rose to his feet and threw his half-smoked cigar into the spittoon. There was about his movements the same pagan freedom and leashed power Scarlett had noted that night Atlanta fell, something sinister and a little frightening. “If he loved you, then why in hell did he permit you to come to Atlanta to get the tax money? Before I’d let a woman I loved do that, I’d—” “He didn’t know! He had no idea that I—” “Doesn’t it occur to you that he should have known?” There was barely suppressed savagery in his voice. “Loving you as you say he does, he should have known just what you would do when
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