Steinbeck reinforces this kinder impression of Curley's wife in his description of her in death. Momentarily, the light from the setting sun becomes softer and shines across her body. She no longer looks like a tart who needs attention; instead she looks like a young, pretty, innocent girl, sleeping lightly.
George clearly accepts the end of his and Lennie's dream. The reader feels that he never really believed it could happen even though the plan of using Candy's money made it seem possible for awhile. George says on two different occasions to Candy, "I should of knew … I guess maybe way back in my head I did." Later when Candy suggests they could still have the farm together, George says, "… I think I knowed from the very first. I think I know'd we'd never do her. He usta like to hear about it so much I got to thinking maybe we would." Without Lennie, the dream is gone and perhaps never really existed except in the words that made Lennie's happiness complete.
George's words echo the prophesy of Crooks when he imagines what his life will be like without Lennie: "I'll work my month an' I'll take my fifty bucks an' I'll stay all night in some lousy cat house. Or I'll set in some poolroom till ever'body goes home. An' then I'll come back an' work another month an' I'll have fifty bucks more." Gone is the dream. Gone are the complaints about what he could do if he did not have Lennie around his neck. Now he will be alone like everyone else.
