The Game and its players

           ItwasnotlongafterJohnPendleton’ssecondvisitthatMillySnowcalledoneafternoon. MillySnowhadneverbeforebeentotheHarringtonhomestead. SheblushedandlookedveryembarrassedwhenMissPollyenteredtheroom. 

           "IIcametoinquireforthelittlegirl,"shestammered. 

           "Youareverykind. Sheisaboutthesame. Howisyourmother?"rejoinedMissPolly,wearily. 

           "ThatiswhatIcametotellyouthatis,toaskyoutotellMissPollyanna,"hurriedonthegirl,breathlesslyandincoherently. "Wethinkit’ssoawfulsoperfectlyawfulthatthelittlethingcan’teverwalkagain; andafterallshe’sdoneforus,tooformother,youknow,teachinghertoplaythegame,andallthat. Andwhenweheardhownowshecouldn’tplayitherselfpoorlittledear! I’msureIdon’tseehowsheCAN,either,inhercondition! butwhenwerememberedallthethingsshe’dsaidtous,wethoughtifshecouldonlyknowwhatsheHADdoneforus,thatitwouldHELP,youknow,inherowncase,aboutthegame,becauseshecouldbegladthatis,alittleglad" Millystoppedhelplessly,andseemedtobewaitingforMissPollytospeak. 

           MissPollyhadsatpolitelylistening,butwithapuzzledquestioninginhereyes. Onlyabouthalfofwhathadbeensaid,hadsheunderstood. ShewasthinkingnowthatshealwayshadknownthatMillySnowwas"queer,"butshehadnotsupposedshewascrazy. Innootherway,however,couldsheaccountforthisincoherent,illogical,unmeaningrushofwords. Whenthepausecameshefilleditwithaquiet: 

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