Chapter 22

           ItwasJem’sturntocry.Hisfacewasstreakedwithangrytearsaswemadeourwaythroughthecheerfulcrowd."Itain’tright,"hemuttered,allthewaytothecornerofthesquarewherewefoundAtticuswaiting.Atticuswasstandingunderthestreetlightlookingasthoughnothinghadhappened:hisvestwasbuttoned,hiscollarandtiewereneatlyinplace,hiswatch-chainglistened,hewashisimpassiveselfagain.

           "Itain’tright,Atticus,"saidJem.

           "Noson,it’snotright."

           Wewalkedhome.

           AuntAlexandrawaswaitingup.Shewasinherdressinggown,andIcouldhaveswornshehadonhercorsetunderneathit."I’msorry,brother,"shemurmured.HavingneverheardhercallAtticus"brother"before,IstoleaglanceatJem,buthewasnotlistening.HewouldlookupatAtticus,thendownatthefloor,andIwonderedifhethoughtAtticussomehowresponsibleforTomRobinson’sconviction.

           "Isheallright?"Auntyasked,indicatingJem.

           "He’llbesopresently,"saidAtticus."Itwasalittletoostrongforhim."Ourfathersighed."I’mgoingtobed,"hesaid."IfIdon’twakeupinthemorning,don’tcallme."

           "Ididn’tthinkitwiseinthefirstplacetoletthem—"

           "Thisistheirhome,sister,"saidAtticus."We’vemadeitthiswayforthem,theymightaswelllearntocopewithit."

           "Buttheydon’thavetogotothecourthouseandwallowinit—"

           "It’sjustasmuchMaycombCountyasmissionaryteas."

           "Atticus—"AuntAlexandra’seyeswereanxious.