Поллианна

           "Oh,oh!"shecried,clappingherhands. "I’msoglad! Thatis,"shecorrected,coloringdistressfully,"Idon’tmeanthatI’mnotsorryfortheheathen,onlyjustnowIcan’thelpbeinggladthatyoudon’twantthelittleIndiaboys,becausealltheresthavewantedthem. AndsoI’mgladyou’dratherhaveJimmyBean. NowIknowyou’lltakehim!" 

           "Take—WHO?" 

           "JimmyBean. He’sthe‘child’spresence,’youknow;andhe’llbesogladtobeit. IhadtotellhimlastweekthatevenmyLadies’AidoutWestwouldn’ttakehim,andhewassodisappointed. Butnow—whenhehearsofthis—he’llbesoglad!" 

           "Willhe?Well,Iwon’t,"ejaculatedtheman,decisively. "Pollyanna,thisissheernonsense!" 

           "Youdon’tmean—youwon’ttakehim?" 

           "Icertainlydomeanjustthat." 

           "Buthe’dbealovelychild’spresence,"falteredPollyanna. Shewasalmostcryingnow. "AndyouCOULDN’Tbelonesome—withJimmy‘round." 

           "Idon’tdoubtit,"rejoinedtheman; "but—IthinkIpreferthelonesomeness." 

           ItwasthenthatPollyanna,forthefirsttimeinweeks,suddenlyrememberedsomethingNancyhadoncetoldher. Sheraisedherchinaggrievedly. 

           "Maybeyouthinkanicelivelittleboywouldn’tbebetterthanthatolddeadskeletonyoukeepsomewhere; butIthinkitwould!" 

           "SKELETON?" 

           "Yes. Nancysaidyouhadoneinyourcloset,somewhere."