that love was prominent in your

“I—I shall never marry again.” 　“Oh, yes, you will. You were born to be married. Why not me?” 　“But Rhett, I—I don’t love you.” 　“That should be no drawback. I don’t recall that love was prominent in your other two ventures.” 　“Oh, how can you? You know I was fond of Frank!” 　He said nothing. 　“I was! I was!” 　“Well, we won’t argue that. Will you think over my proposition while I’m gone?” 　“Rhett, I don’t like for things to drag on. I’d rather tell you now. I’m going home to Tara soon and India Wilkes will stay with Aunt Pittypat. I want to go home for a long spell and—I—I don’t ever want to get married again.” 　“Nonsense. Why?” 　“Oh, well—never mind why. I just don’t like being married.” 　“But, my poor child, you’ve never really, been married. How can you know? I’ll admit you’ve had bad luck—once for spite and once for money. Did you ever think of marrying—just for the fun of it?” 　“Fun! Don’t talk like a fool. There’s no fun being married.” 　“No? Why not?” 　A measure of calm had returned and with it all the natural bluntness which brandy brought to the surface. 　“It’s fun for men—though God knows why. I never could understand it. But all a woman gets out of it is something to eat and a lot of work and having to put up with a man’s foolishness—and a baby every year.” 　He laughed so loudly that the sound echoed in the stillness and Scarlett heard the kitchen door open.