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〃Poor Del;〃 he said in a low; hoarse voice。 〃Poor old Del。〃
〃Yes;〃 I said。 〃Poor old Del。 John; are you okay?〃
〃He's out of it;〃 Coffey said。 〃Del's out of it。 Isn't he; boss?〃
〃Yes。 Answer my question; John。 Are you okay?〃
〃Del's out of it; he's the lucky one。 No matter how it happened; he's the lucky one。〃
I thought Delacroix might have given him an argument on that; but didn't say so。 I glanced around Coffey's cell; instead。 〃Where's Mr。 Jingles?〃
〃Ran down there。〃 He pointed through the bars; down the hall to the restraint…room door。
I nodded。 〃Well; he'll be back。〃
But he wasn't; Mr。 Jingles's days on the Green Mile were over。 The only trace of him we ever happened on was what Brutal found that winter: a few brightly colored splinters of wood; and a smell of peppermint candy wafting out of a hole in a beam。
I meant to walk away then; but I didn't。 I looked at John Coffey; and he back at me as if he knew everything I was thinking。 I told myself to get moving; to just call it a night and get moving; back to the duty desk and my report。 Instead I said his name: 〃John Coffey。〃
〃Yes; boss;〃 he said at once。
Sometimes a man is cursed with needing to know a thing; and that was how it was with me right then。 I dropped down on one knee and began taking off one of my shoes。
7。
The rain had quit by the time I got home; and a late grin of moon had appeared over the ridges to the north。 My