and back to the sagging

There was a short mumbled argument, punctuated with curses, and uncertain feet ascended the stairs. In the doorway appeared Ashley, white faced, his head lolling, his bright hair tousled, his long body wrapped from neck to knees in Rhett’s black cape. Hugh Elsing and Rhett, none too steady on their feet, supported him on either side and it was obvious he would have fallen to the floor but for their aid. Behind them came the Yankee captain, his face a study of mingled suspicion and amusement. He stood in the open doorway with his men peering curiously over his shoulders and the cold wind swept the house. 　Scarlett, frightened, puzzled, glanced at Melanie and back to the sagging Ashley and then half-comprehension came to her. She started to cry out: “But he can’t be drunk!” and bit back the words. She realized she was witnessing a play, a desperate play on which lives hinged. She knew she was not part of it nor was Aunt Pitty but the others were and they were tossing cues to one another like actors in an oft-rehearsed drama. She understood only half but she understood enough to keep silent. 　“Put him in the chair,” cried Melanie indignantly. “And you, Captain Butler, leave this house immediately! How dare you show your face here after getting him in this condition again!” 　The two men eased Ashley into a rocker and Rhett, swaying, caught hold of the back of the chair to steady himself and addressed the captain with pain in his voice. 　“That’s fine thanks I get, isn’t it? For keeping the police from getting him and bringing him home and him yelling and trying to claw me!” 　“And you, Hugh Elsing, I’m ashamed of you! What will your poor mother say? Drunk and out with a—a Yankee-loving Scalawag like Captain Butler! And, oh, Mr. Wilkes, how could you do such a thing?” 　“Melly, I ain’t so very drunk,” mumbled Ashley, and with the words fell forward and lay face down on the table, his head buried in his arms. 　“Archie, take him to his room and put him to bed—as usual,” ordered Melanie. “Aunt Pitty, please run and fix the bed and oo-oh,” she suddenly burst into tears. “Oh, how could he? After he promised!” 　Archie already had his arm under Ashley’s shoulder and Pitty, frightened and uncertain, was on her feet when the captain interposed. 　“Don’t touch him. He’s under arrest. Sergeant!” 　As the sergeant stepped into the room, his rifle at trail, Rhett, evidently trying to steady himself, put a hand on the captain’s arm and, with difficulty, focused his eyes. 　“Tom, what you arresting him for? He ain’t so very drunk. I’ve seen him drunker.”