Поллианна

           "NevermindAuntPollynow,"cutinthemanscowlingly,ashetriedtomovehimselfalittle. "HuntupDr.ThomasChilton’snumberonthecardyou’llfindsomewherearoundthere—itoughttobeonthehookdownattheside,butitprobablywon’tbe. Youknowatelephonecard,Isuppose,whenyouseeone!" 

           "Oh,yes,sir! IjustloveAuntPolly’s. There’ssuchalotofqueernames,and—" 

           "TellDr.ChiltonthatJohnPendletonisatthefootofLittleEagleLedgeinPendletonWoodswithabrokenleg,andtocomeatoncewithastretcherandtwomen. He’llknowwhattodobesidesthat. Tellhimtocomebythepathfromthehouse." 

           "Abrokenleg? Oh,Mr.Pendleton,howperfectlyawful!"shudderedPollyanna. "ButI’msogladIcame! Can’tIdo—" 

           "Yes,youcan—butevidentlyyouwon’t! WILLyougoanddowhatIaskandstoptalking,"moanedtheman,faintly. And,withalittlesobbingcry,Pollyannawent. 

           Pollyannadidnotstopnowtolookupatthepatchesofbluebetweenthesunlittopsofthetrees. Shekepthereyesonthegroundtomakesurethatnotwignorstonetrippedherhurryingfeet. 

           Itwasnotlongbeforeshecameinsightofthehouse. Shehadseenitbefore,thoughneversonearasthis. Shewasalmostfrightenednowatthemassivenessofthegreatpileofgraystonewithitspillaredverandasanditsimposingentrance. Pausingonlyamoment,however,shespedacrossthebigneglectedlawnandaroundthehousetothesidedoorundertheporte-cochere. Herfingers,stifffromtheirtightclutchuponthekeys,wereanythingbutskilfulintheireffortstoturntheboltinthelock; butatlasttheheavy,carveddoorswungslowlybackonitshinges.