He said softly and firmly, "You'll always tell me when you throw things away--won't you, Mrs.Parker ?" And he walked off very well pleased with himself, convinced, in fact, he'd shown Mrs.Parker that under his apparent carelessness he was as vigilant as a woman.
The door banged.

She took her brushes and cloths into the bedroom.

But when she began to make the bed, smoothing, tucking, patting, the thought of little Lennie was unbearable.

Why did he have to suffer so?
That's what she couldn't understand.

Why should a little angel child have to arsk for his breath and fight for it?
There was no sense in making a child suffer like that.
...