1 "I'm going to beat your hide off for that," cried Stuart fiercely.
2 "I wouldn't have Cade on a silver tray," cried Scarlett in fury.
3 "Oh," cried Scarlett, fresh pain striking her as Gerald's words brought home the terrible inevitability of the truth.
4 "No," she cried vehemently, jerking away.
5 "Well, at any rate I've never been thrown," cried Scarlett indignantly.
6 Small Carreen could have cried because, for all Scarlett's encouraging words that morning, Brent had done no more than say "Hello, Sis" and jerk her hair ribbon before turning his full attention to Scarlett.
7 She cried until Charles climbed into bed beside her and tried to comfort her, cried without words until no more tears would come and at last she lay sobbing quietly on his shoulder.
8 They all cried to her that she must join their knitting and sewing circles and their hospital committees, and no one else's, and she promised recklessly to right and left.
9 As they passed a rambling green clapboard house, a little black girl posted on the front steps cried, "Hyah she come," and Dr. Meade and his wife and little thirteen-year-old Phil emerged, calling greetings.
10 To Scarlett, this house cried out for the masculine smells of brandy, tobacco and Macassar oil, for hoarse voices and occasional curses, for guns, for whiskers, for saddles and bridles and for hounds underfoot.
11 She burrowed her head in the pillow and cried and kicked her feet at the tufted counterpane.
12 That was fortunate, for if she could have spoken she would have cried out truths couched in Gerald's forthright words.
13 Then you cried and declared you didn't know what had come over you and that he couldn't ever respect you again.
14 "You all must stand by me and not leave me alone with him for one minute," cried Scarlett.
15 "Oh, you can't go home," cried Pittypat, bursting into tears.