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