"Maybelle Merriwether went toward the next booth on the arm of the Zouave, in an apple-green tarlatan so wide that it reduced her waist to nothingness. It was showered and flounced with cream-colored Chantilly lace that had come from Charleston on the last blockader, and Maybelle was flaunting it as saucily as if she and not the famous Captain Butler had run the blockade.
"'How sweet I'd look in that dress,' thought Scarlett, a savage envy in her heart. '.....That green is just my color and it would make my eyes look---Why will blondes try to wear that color? Her skin looks as green as an old cheese. And to think I'll never wear that color again, not even when I do get out of mourning. No, not even if I do manage to get married again. Then I'll have to wear tacky old grays and tans and lilacs.'"
Here We Are
2 days ago
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