two have been with me

“Drunk be damned,” cried the captain. “He can lie in the gutter for all I care. I’m no policeman. He and Mr. Elsing are under arrest for complicity in a Klan raid at Shantytown tonight. A nigger and a white man were killed. Mr. Wilkes was the ringleader in it.” 　“Tonight?” Rhett began to laugh. He laughed so hard that he sat down on the sofa and put his head in his hands. “Not tonight, Tom,” he said when he could speak. “These two have been with me tonight—ever since eight o’clock when they were supposed to be at the meeting.” 　“With you, Rhett? But—” A frown came over the captain’s forehead and he looked uncertainly at the snoring Ashley and his weeping wife. “But—where were you?” 　“I don’t like to say,” and Rhett shot a look of drunken cunning at Melanie. 　“You’d better say!” 　“Le’s go out on the porch and I’ll tell you where we were.” 　“You’ll tell me now.” 　“Hate to say it in front of ladies. If you ladies’ll step out of the room—” 　“I won’t go,” cried Melanie, dabbing angrily at her eyes with her handkerchief. “I have a right to know. Where was my husband?” 　“At Belle Watling’s sporting house,” said Rhett, looking abashed. “He was there and Hugh and Frank Kennedy and Dr. Meade and—and a whole lot of them. Had a party. Big party. Champagne. Girls—” 　“At—at Belle Watling’s?” 　Melanie’s voice rose until it cracked with such pain that all eyes turned frightenedly to her. Her hand went clutching at her bosom and, before Archie could catch her, she had fainted. Then a hubbub ensued, Archie picking her up, India running to the kitchen for water, Pitty and Scarlett fanning her and slapping her wrists, while Hugh Elsing shouted over and over: “Now you’ve done it! Now you’ve done it!” 　“Now it’ll be all over town,” said Rhett savagely. “I hope you’re satisfied, Tom. There won’t be a wife in Atlanta who’ll speak to her husband tomorrow.”