Поллианна
A Question answered
"Why,what—" Suddenlythemanthrewbackhisheadandlaughed. Helaughedveryheartilyindeed—soheartilythatPollyannabegantocryfrompurenervousness. Whenhesawthat,JohnPendletonsaterectverypromptly. Hisfacegrewgraveatonce.
"Pollyanna,Isuspectyouareright—morerightthanyouknow,"hesaidgently. "Infact,IKNOWthata‘nicelivelittleboy’wouldbefarbetterthan—myskeletoninthecloset; only—wearen’talwayswillingtomaketheexchange. Weareapttostillclingto—ourskeletons,Pollyanna. However,supposeyoutellmealittlemoreaboutthisnicelittleboy." AndPollyannatoldhim.
Perhapsthelaughclearedtheair; orperhapsthepathosofJimmyBean’sstoryastoldbyPollyanna’seagerlittlelipstouchedaheartalreadystrangelysoftened. Atallevents,whenPollyannawenthomethatnightshecarriedwithheraninvitationforJimmyBeanhimselftocallatthegreathousewithPollyannathenextSaturdayafternoon.
"AndI’msoglad,andI’msureyou’lllikehim,"sighedPollyanna,asshesaidgood-by. "IdosowantJimmyBeantohaveahome—andfolksthatcare,youknow."
