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fection which had so troubled my life in the fall of 1932 … the fall of John Coffey; Percy Wetmore; and Mr。 Jingles; the trained mouse。
The fall of William Wharton; it had been; too。
〃Paul!〃 Elaine cried; and hurried over to me hurried as fast as the rusty nails and ground glass in her hips would allow; anyway。 〃Paul; what's wrong?〃
〃I'll be all right;〃 I said; but the words didn't sound very convincing … they came out all uneven; through teeth that wanted to chatter。 〃Just give me a minute or two; I'll be right as rain。〃
She sat next to me and put her arm around my shoulders。 〃I'm sure;〃 she said。 〃But what happened? For heaven's sake; Paul; you look like you saw a ghost。〃
I did; I thought; and didn't realize until her eyes widened that I'd said it out loud。
〃Not really。〃 I said; and patted her hand (gently … so gently!)。 〃But for a minute。 Elaine God!〃
〃Was it from the time when you were a guard at the prison?〃 she asked。 〃The time that you've been writing about in the solarium?〃
I nodded。 〃I worked on our version of Death Row … 〃
〃I know … 〃
〃Only we called it the Green Mile。 Because of the linoleum on the floor。 In the fall of '32; we got this fellow … we got this wildman … named William Wharton。 Liked to think of himself as Billy the Kid; even had it tattooed on his arm。 Just a kid; but dangerous。 I can still remember what Curtis Anderson … he was the assistant warden back in those days … wrote abo