Oh, no, no. I thought surely she had written you. I guess she was ashamed to write to you. She should be ashamed. Oh, how awful to have such a mean sister!
That he was Suellen’s fiance caused her no qualm of conscience. After the complete moral collapse which had sent her to Atlanta and to Rhett, the appropriation of her sister’s betrothed seemed a minor affair and one not to be bothered with at this time.
With the rousing of fresh hope, her spine stiffened and she forgot that her feet were wet and cold. She looked at Frank so steadily, her eyes narrowing, that he became somewhat alarmed and she dropped her gaze swiftly, remembering Rhett’s words: “I’ve seen eyes like yours above a dueling pistol … They evoke no ardor in the male breast.”
“What’s the matter, Miss Scarlett? You got a chill?”
“Yes,” she answered helplessly. “Would you mind—” She hesitated timidly. “Would you mind if I put my hand in your coat pocket? It’s so cold and my muff is soaked through.”