Поллианна
Two visits
Therewasanothersilence; then,abruptly,themanasked:
"Sheherselfdoesn’tknowyet—ofcourse—doesshe?"
"Butshedoes,sir."sobbedNancy,"an’that’swhatmakesitalltheharder. Shefoundout—dratthatcat! Ibegsyerpardon,"apologizedthegirl,hurriedly. "It’sonlythatthecatpushedopenthedooran’MissPollyannaoverheard‘emtalkin’. Shefoundout—thatway."
"Poor—little—girl!"sighedthemanagain.
"Yes,sir. You’dsayso,sir,ifyoucouldseeher,"chokedNancy. "Ihain’tseenherbuttwicesincesheknewaboutit,an’itdonemeupbothtimes. Yeseeit’sallsofreshan’newtoher,an’shekeepsthinkin’allthetimeofnewthingsshecan’tdo—NOW. Itworriesher,too,‘causeshecan’tseemterbeglad—maybeyoudon’tknowabouthergame,though,"brokeoffNancy,apologetically.
"The‘gladgame’?"askedtheman. "Oh,yes; shetoldmeofthat."
"Oh,shedid! Well,Iguessshehastolditgenerallytermostfolks. Butyesee,nowshe—shecan’tplayitherself,an’itworriesher. Shesaysshecan’tthinkofathing—notathingaboutthisnotwalkin’again,terbegladabout."
"Well,whyshouldshe?"retortedtheman,almostsavagely.
Nancyshiftedherfeetuneasily.
"That’sthewayIfelt,too—tillIhappenedterthink—itWOULDbeeasierifshecouldfindsomethin’,yeknow. SoItriedto—toremindher." "Toremindher! Ofwhat?" JohnPendleton’svoicewasstillangrilyimpatient.
