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； of course。
She wasn't quite dead。 I have often thought it would have been better … for me； if not for her … if she had been killed instantly。 It might have made it possible for me to let her go a little sooner； a little more naturally。 Or perhaps I'm only kidding myself about that。 All I know for sure is that I have never let her go； not really。
She was trembling all over。 One of her shoes had e off and I could see her foot jittering。 Her eyes were open but blank； the left one full of blood； and as I fell on my knees next to her in the smoky…smelling rain； all I could think of was that jitter meant she was being electrocuted； she was being electrocuted and I had to hold the roll before it was too late。
〃Help me！〃 I screamed。 〃Help me； someone help me！〃
No one helped； no one even came。 The rain pounded down … a hard； soaking rain that flattened
My still…black hair against my skull … and I held her in my arms and no one came。 Her blank eyes looked up at me with a kind of dazed intensity； and blood poured from the back of her crushed head in a freshet。 Beside one trembling； mindlessly spasming hand was a piece of chromed steel with the letters GREY on it。 Next to that was roughly one quarter of what had once been a businessman in a brown Wool suit。
〃Help me！〃 I screamed again； and turned toward the underpass； and there I saw John Coffey standing in the shadows； only a shadow himself； a big man with long； dangling arms and a bald head。
