It　was　puckered　up　around　the　eye　on　the　right　side；　as　if　she　were　trying　to　wink。　That　same　side　of　her　mouth　turned　down；　one　old　yellow　eyetooth　hung　out　over　her　liverish　lower　lip。　Her　hair　was　a　wild　thin　fog　around　her　skull。　The　room　stank　of　the　stuff　our　bodies　dispose　of　with　such　decorum　when　things　are　running　right。　The　chamberpot　by　her　bed　was　half　full　of　some　vile　yellowish　goo。　We　had　e　too　late　anyway；　I　thought；　horrified。　It　had　only　been　a　matter　of　days　since　she　had　been　recognizable　…　sick　but　still　herself　Since　then；　the　thing　in　her　head　must　have　moved　with　horrifying　speed　to　consolidate　its　position。　I　didn't　think　even　John　Coffey　could　help　her　now。

Her　expression　when　Coffey　entered　was　one　of　fear　and　horror　…　as　if　something　inside　her　had　recognized　a　doctor　that　might　be　able　to　get　at　it　and　pry　it　loose；　after　all　。。。　to　sprinkle　salt　on　it　the　way　you　do　on　a　leech　to　make　it　let　go　its　grip。　Hear　me　carefully：　I'm　not　saying　that　Melly　Moores　was　possessed；　and　I'm　aware　that；　wrought　up　as　I　was；　all　my　perceptions　of　that　night　must　be　suspect。　But　I　have　never　pletely　discounted　the　possibility　of　demonic　possession；　either。　There　was　something　in　her　eyes；　I　tell　you；　something　that　looked　like　fear。　On　that　I　think　you　can　trust　me；　it's　an　emotion　I've　seen　too　much　of　to　mistake。

Whatever　it　was；　it　was　gone　in　a　hurry；　replaced　by　a　look　of　lively；　irrational　interest。　That　unspeakable　mouth　trembled　in　what　might　have　been　a　smile。

〃Oh；　so　big！〃　she　cried。　She　sounded　like　a　little　girl　just　ing　down　with　a　bad　throat　infection。　She　took　her　hands　…as　spongy…white　as　her　face　…　out　from　under　the　counterpane　and　patted　them　together。　〃Pull　down　your　pants！　I've　heard　about　nigger…cocks　my　whole　l