Поллианна
Just like a book
"Why,y-yes; hedidactalittlequeer—overthatjelly,"admittedPollyanna,withathoughtfulfrown.
Nancydrewalongsigh.
"ThenI’vegotit,sure! Nowlisten. MR.JOHNPENDLETONWASMISSPOLLYHARRINGTON’SLOVER!"sheannouncedimpressively,butwithafurtiveglanceoverhershoulder.
"Why,Nancy,hecouldn’tbe! Shedoesn’tlikehim,"objectedPollyanna.
Nancygaveherascornfulglance.
"Ofcourseshedon’t! THAT’Sthequarrel!"
Pollyannastilllookedincredulous,andwithanotherlongbreathNancyhappilysettledherselftotellthestory.
"It’slikethis. Justbeforeyoucome,Mr.TomtoldmeMissPollyhadhadaloveronce. Ididn’tbelieveit. Icouldn’t—herandalover! ButMr.Tomsaidshehad,andthathewaslivin’nowrightinthistown. AndNOWIknow,ofcourse. It’sJohnPendleton. Hain’thegotamysteryinhislife? Don’theshuthimselfupinthatgrandhousealone,andneverspeakternoone? Didn’theactqueerwhenhefoundoutyouwasMissPolly’sniece? Andnowhain’theownedupthatyouremindhimofsomethin’hewantsterforget? JustasifANYBODYcouldn’tsee‘twasMissPolly! —an’hersayin’shewouldn’tsendhimnojelly,too. Why,MissPollyanna,it’sasplainasthenoseonyerface;itis,itis!"
"Oh-h!"breathedPollyanna,inwide-eyedamazement. "But,Nancy,Ishouldthinkiftheylovedeachotherthey’dmakeupsometime. Bothof‘emallalone,so,alltheseyearsIshouldthinkthey’dbegladtomakeup!"
