DANNY'S OWN STORY BY DON MARQUIS TO MY ... - Pink Monkey

When Henry falls the woman staggers and tries
to throw herself on top of him. The corners of
her mouth was all drawed down, and her eyes was
turned up. But she don't yell none. She can't.
She tries, but she jest gurgles in her throat. The
perfessor won't let her fall acrost Henry. He
ketches her. "Sit up, Jane," he says, with that
Estelle look onto his face, "and let us have a talk."
She looks at him with no more sense in her face
than a piece of putty has got. But she can't look
away from him.
And I'm kind o' paralyzed, too. If that feller
laying on the floor had only jest kicked oncet, or
grunted, or done something, I could of loosened
up and yelled, and I would of. I jest NEEDED to
fetch a yell. But Henry ain't more'n dropped down
there till I'm feeling jest like he'd ALWAYS been
there, and I'd ALWAYS been staring into that room,
and the last word any one spoke was said hundreds
and hundreds of years ago.
"You're a murderer," says Jane in a whisper,
looking at the perfessor in that stare-eyed way.
"You're a MURDERER," she says, saying it like she
was trying to make herself feel sure he really was
one.
"Murder!" says the perfessor. "Did you think
I was going to run any chances for a pup like him?
He's scared, that's all. He's just fainted through
fright. He's a coward. Those pills were both
just bread and sugar. He'll be all right in a minute
or two. I've just been showing you that the fellow
hasn't got nerve enough nor brains enough for
a fine woman like you, Jane," he says.
Then Jane begins to sob and laugh, both to oncet,
kind o' wild like, her voice clucking like a hen
does, and she says:
"It's worse then, it's worse! It's worse for me
than if it were a murder! Some farces can be more