Chapter 29

           AuntAlexandragotupandreachedforthemantelpiece.Mr.Taterose,butshedeclinedistance.Foronceinhislife,Atticus’sinstinctivecourtesyfailedhim:hesatwherehewas.

           Somehow,IcouldthinkofnothingbutMr.BobEwellsayinghe’dgetAtticusifittookhimtherestofhislife.Mr.Ewellalmostgothim,anditwasthelastthinghedid.

           "Areyousure?"Atticussaidbleakly.

           "He’sdeadallright,"saidMr.Tate."He’sgoodanddead.Hewon’thurtthesechildrenagain."

           "Ididn’tmeanthat."Atticusseemedtobetalkinginhissleep.Hisagewasbeginningtoshow,hisonesignofinnerturmoil,thestronglineofhisjawmeltedalittle,onebecameawareoftelltalecreasesformingunderhisears,onenoticednothisjet-blackhairbutthegraypatchesgrowingathistemples.

           "Hadn’twebettergotothelivingroom?"AuntAlexandrasaidatlast.

           "Ifyoudon’tmind,"saidMr.Tate,"I’dratherusstayinhereifitwon’thurtJemany.IwanttohavealookathisinjurieswhileScout...tellsusaboutit."

           "IsitallrightifIleave?"sheasked."I’mjustonepersontoomanyinhere.I’llbeinmyroomifyouwantme,Atticus."AuntAlexandrawenttothedoor,butshestoppedandturned."Atticus,Ihadafeelingaboutthistonight—I—thisismyfault,"shebegan."Ishouldhave—"

           Mr.Tatehelduphishand."Yougoahead,MissAlexandra,Iknowit’sbeenashocktoyou.