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She
laughed
at
that
,
the
sound
as
pure
as
silver
in
the
bad-smelling
sickroom
.
Hal
was
beside
me
now
,
breathing
rapidly
but
not
trying
to
interfere
.
When
Melly
laughed
,
his
rapid
breathing
paused
for
a
moment
,
indrawn
,
and
one
of
his
big
hands
gripped
my
shoulder
.
He
gripped
it
hard
enough
to
leave
a
bruise
--
I
saw
it
the
next
day
--
but
right
then
I
hardly
felt
it
.
"
What
's
your
name
?
"
she
asked
.
"
John
Coffey
,
ma'am
.
"
"
Coffey
like
the
drink
.
"
"
Yes
,
ma'am
,
only
spelled
different
.
"
She
lay
back
against
her
pillows
,
propped
up
but
not
quite
sitting
up
,
looking
at
him
.
He
sat
beside
her
,
looking
back
,
and
the
light
from
the
lamp
circled
them
like
they
were
actors
on
a
stage
--
the
hulking
black
man
in
the
prison
overall
and
the
small
dying
white
woman
.
She
stared
into
John
's
eyes
with
shining
fascination
.
"
Ma'am
?
"
"
Yes
,
John
Coffey
?
"
The
words
barely
breathed
,
barely
slipping
to
us
on
the
bad-smelling
,
air
.
I
felt
the
muscles
bunching
on
my
arms
and
legs
and
back
.
Somewhere
,
far
away
,
I
could
feel
the
warden
clutching
my
arm
,
and
to
the
side
of
my
vision
I
could
see
Harry
and
Brutal
with
their
arms
around
each
other
,
like
little
kids
lost
in
the
night
.
Something
was
going
to
happen
.
Something
big
.
We
each
felt
it
in
our
own
way
.
John
Coffey
bent
closer
to
her
.
The
springs
of
the
bed
creaked
,
the
bedclothes
rustled
,
and
the
coldly
smiling
moon
looked
in
through
an
upper
pane
of
the
bedroom
window
.
Coffey
's
bloodshot
eyes
searched
her
upturned
haggard
face
.
