“There was no point in saying you were sorry if you aren’t,” said Atticus. “Jem, she’s old and ill. You can’t hold her responsible for what she says and does. Of course, I’d rather she’d have said it to me than to either of you, but we can’t always have our ’druthers.” Jem seemed fascinated by a rose in the carpet. “Atticus,” he said, “she wants me to read to her.” “Read to her?” “Yes sir. She wants me to come every afternoon after school and Saturdays and read to her out loud for two hours. Atticus, do I have to?” “Certainly.” “But she wants me to do it for a month.” “Then you’ll do it for a
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