again；　stunned。　It　was　still　breathing；　but　there　were　little　minute　beads　of　blood　caught　in　the　filaments　of　its　whiskers；　and　a　dull　glaze　was　creeping　over　its　previously　brilliant　oildrop　eyes。　Brutal　picked　up　the　colored　spool；　looked　at　it；　then　looked　at　me。　He　looked　as　dumbfounded　as　I　felt。　Behind　us；　Delacroix　went　on　screaming　out　his　grief　and　horror。　It　wasn't　just　the　mouse；　of　course；　Percy　had　smashed　a　hole　in　Delacroix's　defenses　and　all　his　terror　was　pouring　out。　But　Mr。　Jingles　was　the　focusing　point　for　those　pent…up　feelings；　and　it　was　terrible　to　listen　to　him。

〃Oh　no；〃　he　cried　over　and　over　again；　amid　the　screams　and　the　garbled　pleas　and　prayers　in　Cajun　French。　〃Oh　no；　oh　no；　poor　Mr。　Jingles；　poor　old　Mr。　Jingles；　oh　no。〃

〃Give　im　to　me。〃

I　looked　up；　puzzled　by　that　deep　voice；　at　first　not　sure　who　it　belonged　to。　I　saw　John　Coffey。　Like　Delacroix；　he　had　put　his　arms　through　the　bars　of　his　cell　door；　but　unlike　Del；　he　wasn't　waving　them　around。　He　simply　held　them　out　as　far　as　he　could；　the　hands　at　the　ends　of　them　open。　It　was　a　purposeful　pose；　an　almost　urgent　pose。　And　his　voice；　had　the　same　quality；　which　was　why；　I　suppose；　I　didn't　recognize　it　as　belonging　to　Coffey　at　first。　He　seemed　a　different　man　from　the　lost；　weepy　soul　that　had　occupied　this　cell　for　the　last　few　weeks。

〃Give　im　to　me；　Mr。　Edgebe！　While　there's　still　time！〃

Then　I　remembered　what　he'd　done　for　me；　and　understood。　I　su