21:43 

И снова я со своими отрывками!

Народ!

Тут уже затрагивался разговор о некой книге Rhett Butler's People. Так вот, я нашла отрывок из этой книги! :ura: Правда он на английском, но понять можно.:super:

Rhett Butler's People is exciting, romantic, surprising--an unforgettable novel that shows us the Rhett we've never seen, but longed to know--and illuminates one of the greatest love stories ever told. Here, in this excerpt, is where that story begins...


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The library walls were thick and high ceilings kept the room cool and Rhett Butler was suddenly very tired. He stretched out on the long high-backed couch and closed his eyes.

Women. All those women. Rhett remembered how Didi always took one forkful from his plate and went through his wallet when she thought he was asleep. He smiled. He hadn't thought of that in years. Scarlett O'Hara...

Rhett dozed. One restless dream became another, then another. And then, through the fog of sleep, he heard voices.

"What is it? A secret to tell me?"

She took courage, "Yes--a secret--I love you."

He said, "Isn't it enough that you've collected every other man's heart here today? Do you want to make it unanimous? Well, you've always had my heart, you know. You cut your teeth on it."

Puzzled, Rhett swam upward through the layers of sleep. When his eyes snapped open, his cheek was pressed against a leather bolster and his mouth was dust dry. The voices he’d been dreaming continued remorselessly.

"Ashley--Ashley--tell me--you must--oh, don’t tease me now! Have I your heart? Oh, my dear, I lo—"

Ashley? Now who the hell was Ashley? Exactly where was he, anyway? Rhett's mind cast for a mooring. Fort Sumter. Frank Kennedy's cotton. A backwoods plantation with pretensions. The library. Scarlett? Scarlett who? Rhett frowned. His cheek was stuck to the leather bolster.

Somebody--Ashley?--said, "You must not say these things, Scarlett!"

That Scarlett. Rhett came suddenly and entirely awake.

An earnest voice droned on earnestly, "You mustn't. You don’t mean them. You'll hate yourself for saying them, and you'll hate me for hearing them."

Rhett thought, So much for your adoring glances, Miss Scarlett. He'd slept on his right side and his pocket watch was pressing into his hip and his feet were numb. He should have removed his riding boots. A better man than I, Rhett thought, would leap up, apologize, and assure the lovers he'd heard nothing as he hurried from the room. Fortunately, I am not a better man.

She said, "I couldn't ever hate you. I tell you I love you and I know you must care about me because...Ashley, do you care--you do, don't you?"

"Yes. I care."

Tepid response, young man, Rhett thought, grimacing as he unstuck his cheek from the leather.

"Scarlett, can't we go away and forget that we have ever said these things?" Young Wilkes dithered for a few minutes more before he reached the crux of the matter, "Love isn't enough to make a successful marriage when two people are as different as we are...."

Rhett thought: Aha, Irish immigrant's daughter and the aristocrat. She's good enough to toy with but not good enough to marry.

Wilkes went on: "You would want all of a man, Scarlett, his body, his heart, his soul, his thoughts. And if you did not have them, you would be miserable. And I would not want all of your mind and soul and you would be hurt..."

Rhett thought: That’s a real gentleman: Nothing ventured and absolutely nothing lost.

They wrangled toward the traditional finale: She slapped his face and he elevated his aristocratic chin and, with honor, if not dignity, intact, marched from the room.

Rhett meant to stay hidden until Scarlett left, too, but his heart was alight with laughter and when Scarlett hurled crockery at the fireplace and fragments landed on his couch, he raised up, ran a hand through his sleep-rumpled hair and said, "It is bad enough to have an afternoon nap disturbed by such a passage as I’ve been forced to hear, but why should my life be endangered?"

She gasped, "Sir, you should have made known your presence."

"Indeed. But you were the intruder." He smiled at her and, because he wanted to see her eyes flash, he chuckled.

"Eavesdroppers..." she began a denunciation.

He grinned. "Eavesdroppers often hear highly entertaining and instructive things."

"Sir," she said decisively, "you are no gentleman."

"An apt observation. And you, Miss, are no lady." He loved how her green eyes flashed. Might she slap him too? He laughed again because life is so surprising. "No one can remain a lady after saying or doing what I have just overheard. However, ladies have seldom held any charms for me. I know what they are thinking, but they never have the courage or lack of breeding to say what they think. But you, my dear Miss O'Hara, are a girl of rare spirit, very admirable spirit, and I take my hat off to you." His laughter chased her out of the room.

@темы: Творчество, Книга

Комментарии
2007-10-23 в 22:04 

Ммм.. может довольно примитивно, но это первый фанфик про РЕТТА, который попался мне на глаза. Чуть не запрыгала от радости, как малое дитя, когда наткнулась на него.

*5 минут спустя*
Только что прочитала в инете инфу про эту книгу. Охватывается такой большой период времени и только 400 страниц. Стоит ли тратить деньги? Думаю, что немного обожду, а то не хочется разочаровываться. Деньги потратишь, а там муть какая-то окажется...

2007-10-24 в 06:57 

Ms.Leigh
A present wife of mr.RB and a present mother of our Bonnie-Blue
блин, я так хочу эту книгу!

     

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