1 He turned and looked at her where she lay indistinctly outlined under the dark calico quilt, her high-boned face taking a grayish tinge from the whiteness of the pillow.
2 "I should cry into my pillow every night," said Scarlett, meaning to be flippant, but he took the statement at face value and went red with pleasure.
3 She burrowed her head in the pillow and cried and kicked her feet at the tufted counterpane.
4 She sank her face into the pillow again and, after a whispered conference, the two standing over her tiptoed out.
5 "But she's such a stick," thought Scarlett, pounding the pillow.
6 She turned and tossed on the hot pillow until a noise far up the quiet street reached her ears.
7 To be sure, she still jumped at the sound of explosions but she did not run screaming to burrow her head under Melanie's pillow.
8 On the morning of the first of September, Scarlett awoke with a suffocating sense of dread upon her, a dread she had taken to her pillow the night before.
9 She began calling for Ashley, over and over, as if in a delirium until the hideous monotony gave Scarlett a fierce desire to smother her voice with a pillow.
10 "They're coming," whispered Melanie undeceived and buried her face in the pillow.
11 After a long time, she lay weakly on her face, the earth as soft and comfortable as a feather pillow, and her mind wandered feebly here and there.
12 "You look like a nigger," murmured Scarlett, burrowing her head wearily into its soft pillow.
13 Sometimes he awoke at night and heard the soft sound of tears muffled in the pillow.
14 That's your home, mumbled Scarlett, toying with a pillow and keeping her eyes down to hide dawning triumph in them as she felt the tide turning her way.
15 "I won't think of it now," she said desperately, burying her face in the pillow.