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“I will go home!” she cried and her voice broke and rose to a scream. “I will go home! You can’tstop me! I will go home! I want my mother! I’ll kill you if you

try to stop me! I will go home!”
Tears of fright and hysteria streamed down her face as she finally gave . She beat on his chest with her fists and screamed again: “I will!

I will! If I have to walkevery step of the way!”
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ruffle of his shirt, her beatinghands stilled against him. His hands caressed her tumbled hair

gently, soothingly, and his voicewas gentle too. So gentle, so quiet, so devoid of mockery, it did not seem Rhett Butler’s voice at allbut the voice of some kind

strong stranger who smelled of brandy and tobacco and horses,comforting smells because they reminded her of Gerald.
“There, there, darling,” he said softly. “Don’t cry. You shall go home, my brave little girl. Youshall go home. Don’t cry.”
She felt something brush her hair and wondered vaguely through her tumult if it were his lips.