"How are you, Rhett?
You've been away a long time."
"So I have.
Let me hold the baby, Scarlett.
Oh, I know how to hold babies.
I have many strange accomplishments.
Well, he certainly looks like Frank.
All except the whiskers, but give him time."
"I hope not.
It's a girl."
"A girl?
That's better still.
Boys are such nuisances.
Don't ever have any more boys, Scarlett."
It was on the tip of her tongue to reply tartly that she never intended to have any more babies, boys or girls, but she caught herself in time and smiled, casting about quickly in her mind for some topic of conversation that would put off the bad moment when the subject she feared would come up for discussion.
"Did you have a nice trip, Rhett?
Where did you go this time?"
"Oh--Cuba--New Orleans--other places.
Here, Scarlett, take the baby. She's beginning to slobber and I can't get to my handkerchief.
She's a fine baby, I'm sure, but she's wetting my shirt bosom."
She took the child back into her lap and Rhett settled himself lazily on the banister and took a cigar from a silver case.
"You are always going to New Orleans," she said and pouted a little.
"And you never will tell me what you do there."
"I am a hard-working man, Scarlett, and perhaps my business takes me there."
"Hard-working!
You!" she laughed impertinently.
"You never worked in your life.
You're too lazy.
All you ever do is finance Carpetbaggers in their thieving and take half the profits and bribe Yankee officials to let you in on schemes to rob us taxpayers."
He threw back his head and laughed.
"And how you would love to have money enough to bribe officials, so you could do likewise!"
"The very idea--" She began to ruffle.
"But perhaps you will make enough money to get into bribery on a large scale some day.
Maybe you'll get rich off those convicts you leased."
"Oh," she said, a little disconcerted, "how did you find out about my gang so soon?"
"I arrived last night and spent the evening in the Girl of the Period Saloon, where one hears all the news of the town.
It's a clearing house for gossip.
Better than a ladies' sewing circle.
Everyone told me that you'd leased a gang and put that little plug- ugly, Gallegher, in charge to work them to death."
"That's a lie," she said angrily.
"He won't work them to death.
I'll see to that."
"Will you?"
"Of course I will!
How can you even insinuate such things?"
"Oh, I do beg your pardon, Mrs. Kennedy!
I know your motives are always above reproach.
However, Johnnie Gallegher is a cold little bully if I ever saw one.
Better watch him or you'll be having trouble when the inspector comes around."
"You tend to your business and I'll tend to mine," she said indignantly.