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Because
it
was
loaded
with
enough
infirmary
dope
to
put
him
on
his
back
for
forty-eight
hours
,
and
he
never
tasted
a
thing
,
I
thought
.
"
With
Paul
,
"
Brutal
said
,
"
the
quality
of
mercy
is
not
strained
;
it
droppeth
like
the
gentle
rain
from
heaven
.
"
"
Huh
?
"
Percy
asked
,
frowning
.
"
Means
he
's
a
soft
touch
.
Always
has
been
,
always
will
be
.
Want
to
play
a
game
of
Crazy
Eights
,
Percy
?
"
Percy
snorted
.
"
Except
for
Go
Fish
and
Old
Maid
,
that
's
the
stupidest
card-game
ever
made
.
"
"
That
's
why
I
thought
you
might
like
a
few
hands
,
"
Brutal
said
,
smiling
sweetly
.
"
Everybody
's
a
wisenheimer
,
"
Percy
said
,
and
sulked
off
into
my
office
.
I
did
n't
care
much
for
the
little
rat
parking
his
ass
behind
my
desk
,
but
I
kept
my
mouth
shut
.
The
clock
crawled
.
Twelve-twenty
;
twelve-thirty
.
At
twelve-forty
,
John
Coffey
got
up
off
his
bunk
and
stood
at
his
cell
door
,
hands
grasping
the
bars
loosely
.
Brutal
and
I
walked
down
to
Wharton
's
cell
and
looked
in
.
He
lay
there
on
his
bunk
,
smiling
up
at
the
ceiling
.
His
eyes
were
open
,
but
they
looked
like
big
glass
balls
.
One
hand
lay
on
his
chest
;
the
other
dangled
limply
off
the
side
of
his
bunk
,
knuckles
brushing
the
floor
.
"
Gosh
,
"
Brutal
said
,
"
from
Billy
the
Kid
to
Willie
the
Weeper
in
less
than
an
hour
.
I
wonder
how
many
of
those
morphine
pills
Dean
put
in
that
tonic
.
"
