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Dr. Chilton
"Yes,"noddedPollyanna.
"Well,thedoctorcanbegladbecauseheisn’tlikeotherfolks—thesickones,Imean,whathedoctors,"finishedNancyintriumph.
ItwasPollyanna’sturntofrown.
"Why,y-yes,"sheadmitted. "OfcoursethatISoneway,butitisn’tthewayIsaid; and—someway,Idon’tseemtoquitelikethesoundofit. Itisn’texactlyasifhesaidhewasgladtheyWEREsick,but—Youdoplaythegamesofunny,sometimesNancy,"shesighed,asshewentintothehouse.
Pollyannafoundherauntinthesittingroom.
"Whowasthatman—theonewhodroveintotheyard,Pollyanna?"questionedtheladyalittlesharply.
"Why,AuntPolly,thatwasDr.Chilton! Don’tyouknowhim?"
"Dr.Chilton! Whatwashedoing—here?"
"Hedrovemehome. Oh,andIgavethejellytoMr.Pendleton,and—"
MissPollyliftedherheadquickly.
"Pollyanna,hedidnotthinkIsentit?"
"Oh,no,AuntPolly. Itoldhimyoudidn’t."
MissPollygrewasuddenvividpink.
"YouTOLDhimIdidn’t!"
Pollyannaopenedwidehereyesattheremonstrativedismayinheraunt’svoice.
"Why,AuntPolly,youSAIDto!"
AuntPollysighed.