Scarlett cast a despairing glance at Melly, who twisted her handkerchief helplessly and went out, softly pulling the sliding doors together.
seen that despairing look on his face which was more open an avowal than any words could be?
Moreover, there was a haunting look of despair about her that went to his heart and made him more gentle with her than he had ever been with any person in all the world.
She was shining black, pure African, devoted to her last drop of blood to the O’Haras, Ellen’s mainstay, the despair of her three daughters, the terror of the other house servants.
Scarlett had wept with despair at the knowledge that she was pregnant and wished that she were dead.
Written on it were his love for and joy that she loved him, but battling them both were shame and despair.
Melly looked despairingly backward but hammered her heels into the horse and, with a scattering of gravel, was off down the drive toward the pasture.
Scarlett thought despairingly that a plague of locusts would be more welcome.
When they were finally alone, he would have fresh in his mind the picture of the other men thronging about her, he would be newly impressed with the fact that every one of them wanted her, and that look of sadness and despair would be in his eyes.
Scarlett thought despairingly that Melanie would know what he meant.
She gave one despairing cry and awoke to find Melanie’s worried face above her and Melanie’s hand shaking her to wakefulness.
"I have caused all this," he thought despairingly.
"A ballot?" she cried despairingly.
She had seen Southern men, soft voiced and dangerous in the days before the war, reckless and hard in the last despairing days of the fighting.
Her feet icy, she twisted and turned, unable to sleep, weighed down with fear and despair.
Of course, she had ruined any hope of marriage but, even in her despair, she was glad.
She struggled against him madly, trying to bite his hand, to kick his legs, to scream her rage, despair, hate, her agony of broken pride.
She leaned toward him ardently but he held her away from him, looking at her with eyes from which all remoteness had fled, eyes tormented with struggle and despair.
Cathleen Calvert, who came out of the house at the sound of voices, met Scarlett’s eyes above her brother’s head and in them Scarlett read knowledge and bitter despair.
He did not raise his voice at the last words or emphasize them in any way but to Scarlett they cracked like a whiplash, and with despair she saw the end of her hopes of getting him to propose marriage.
Scarlett had thrown herself on the bed and was sobbing at the top of her voice, sobbing for her lost youth and the pleasures of youth that were denied her, sobbing with the indignation and despair of a child who once could get anything she wanted by sobbing and now knows that sobbing can no longer help her.
"Oh, Ashley!" she cried despairingly, tears in her eyes at the jeering note in his voice.
Pity! Kindness! "Oh, my God," she thought despairingly.
Indignation and despair had claimed her to the exclusion of all other thoughts.
There was such a note of wild despair in his low voice that she dropped her hand from his arm and stepped back.
Their convict uniforms were dirty and foul with sweat, shackles clanked between their ankles when they moved tiredly, and there was an air of apathy and despair about them.
Since she came home she had wondered despairingly a thousand times: "Are we the only folks left in the County?
Don’t let um get away!" and the despairing squawks of the hens and quacking and honking of the ducks and geese.
Scarlett thought in despair: "Nothing, no, nothing, she taught me is of any help to me!
And that’s why he’s looked so—" Her mind went swiftly back to those times when she had caught him looking at her in that strange manner, when the gray eyes that were such perfect curtains for his thoughts had been wide and naked and had in them a look of torment and despair.
I shouldn’t have let him make me look back," she thought despairingly.