"The Second Death"
Responses to section 3
chill, it was "my poor son." "He's dying," she said, "and God knows what I shall do without him." "Well, I don't see how I can help you." I said. I was angry, because he'd been dying once before and she'd done everything but actually bury him. I imagined it was the same sort of dying this time, the sort a man gets over. I'd seen him about the week before on his way up the hill to see the big-breasted girl at the farm. I'd watched him till he was like a little black dot, which stayed suddenly by a square grey box in a field. That was the barn where they used to meet. I've very good eyes and it amuses me to try how far and how clearly they can see. I met him again some time after midnight and helped him get into the house without his mother knowing, and he was well enough then -- only a little sleepy and tired.Responses:
The old vixen was at it again. "He's been asking for you," she shrilled at me.
"If he's as ill as you make out," I said, "it would be better for him to ask for a doctor."
"Doctor's there, but he can't do anything." That startled me for a moment, I'll admit it, until I thought, "the old devil's malingering. He's got some plan or other." He was quite clever enough to cheat a doctor. I had seen him throw a fit that would have deceived Moses.
"For God's sake come," she said, "he seems frightened." Her voice broke quite genuinely, for I suppose in her way