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           AuntAlexandrahadputhimuptothis,somehow.ThroughmytearsIsawJemstandinginasimilarpoolofisolation,hisheadedtooneside.

           Therewasnowheretogo,butIturnedtogoandmetAtticus’svestfront.Iburiedmyheadinitandlistenedtothesmallinternalnoisesthatwentonbehindthelightbluecloth:hiswatchticking,thefaintcrackleofhisstarchedshirt,thesoftsoundofhisbreathing.

           "Yourstomach’sgrowling,"Isaid.

           "Iknowit,"hesaid.

           "Youbettertakesomesoda."

           "Iwill,"hesaid.

           "Atticus,isallthisbehavin’an’stuffgonnamakethingsdifferent?Imeanareyou—?"

           Ifelthishandonthebackofmyhead."Don’tyouworryaboutanything,"hesaid."It’snottimetoworry."

           WhenIheardthat,Iknewhehadcomebacktous.Thebloodinmylegsbegantoflowagain,andIraisedmyhead."Youreallywantustodoallthat?Ican’tremembereverythingFinchesaresupposedtodo...."

           "Idon’twantyoutorememberit.Forgetit."

           Hewenttothedoorandoutoftheroom,shuttingthedoorbehindhim.Henearlyslammedit,butcaughthimselfatthelastminuteandcloseditsoftly.AsJemandIstared,thedooropenedagainandAtticuspeeredaround.Hiseyebrowswereraised,hisglasseshadslipped."GetmorelikeCousinJoshuaeveryday,don’tI?DoyouthinkI’llendupcostingthefamilyfivehundreddollars?"

           Iknownowwhathewastryingtodo,butAtticuswasonlyaman.Ittakesawomantodothatkindofwork.