1 It was past time for him to come home, but she was glad that he was late.
2 The past week with its shimmering, dreamlike beauty, its crowded hours of happiness, was gone.
3 If she had used the wrong tactics with Ashley in the past--well, that was the past and done with.
4 Home, she thought, as she sped down the hall, past the closed doors and still rooms, I must go home.
5 I do not know what the future will bring, but it cannot be as beautiful or as satisfying as the past.
6 The Munroe boys tore past waving their hats, and the Fontaines and Calverts went down the road yelling.
7 The Yankee gunboats had tightened the mesh at the ports and very few ships were now able to slip past the blockade.
8 Nor could she borrow a dress, for the satin wedding dresses of years past had all gone into the making of battle flags.
9 And as the long hours dragged past, they had their answer, an answer that made them look whitely into each other's eyes.
10 Uncle Peter, preoccupied with the conversation behind him, had driven past the Merriwether carriage block and he backed up the horse.
11 When she thought of the dull times of the past year, with the days going by one very much like another, life seemed to have quickened to an incredible speed.
12 They had been kind in Savannah, but James and Andrew and their wives were old and content to sit quietly and talk of a past in which Scarlett had no interest.
13 His tall brothers were a grim, quiet lot, in whom the family tradition of past glories, lost forever, rankled in unspoken hate and crackled out in bitter humor.
14 She did not see that Rhett had pried open the prison of her widowhood and set her free to queen it over unmarried girls when her days as a belle should have been long past.
15 For the past year, she had been so engrossed in her own woes, so bored by any mention of war, she did not know that from the minute the fighting first began, Atlanta had been transformed.
16 Or preempted a seat by her at a musicale or claimed her at a dance, and she was usually so amused by his bland impudence that she laughed and overlooked his past misdeeds until the next occurred.
17 Fanny Elsing, pale and hollow eyed since Gettysburg, was trying to keep her mind from the torturing picture which had worn a groove in her tired mind these past several months--Lieutenant Dallas McLure dying in a jolting ox cart in the rain on the long, terrible retreat into Maryland.
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