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Through an open window
"Whatwasit? What’sanylovers’quarrelafterit’sover?"hesnarled,pacingtheroomangrily. "Asillywrangleoverthesizeofthemoonorthedepthofariver,maybe—itmightaswellbe,sofarasitshavinganyrealsignificancecomparedtotheyearsofmiserythatfollowthem! Nevermindthequarrel! SofarasIamconcerned,Iamwillingtosaytherewasnoquarrel. Pendleton,Imustseethatchild. Itmaymeanlifeordeath. Itwillmean—Ihonestlybelieve—ninechancesoutoftenthatPollyannaWhittierwillwalkagain!"
Thewordswerespokenclearly,impressively; andtheywerespokenjustastheonewhoutteredthemhadalmostreachedtheopenwindownearJohnPendleton’schair. Thusithappenedthatverydistinctlytheyreachedtheearsofasmallboykneelingbeneaththewindowonthegroundoutside.
JimmyBean,athisSaturdaymorningtaskofpullingupthefirstlittlegreenweedsoftheflowerbeds,satupwithearsandeyeswideopen.
"Walk! Pollyanna!" JohnPendletonwassaying. "Whatdoyoumean?"
"ImeanthatfromwhatIcanhearandlearn—amilefromherbedside—thathercaseisverymuchlikeonethatacollegefriendofminehasjusthelped. Foryearshe’sbeenmakingthissortofthingaspecialstudy. I’vekeptintouchwithhim,andstudied,too,inaway. AndfromwhatIhear—butIwanttoSEEthegirl!"
JohnPendletoncameerectinhischair.
"Youmustseeher,man! Couldn’tyou—say,throughDr.Warren?"
Theothershookhishead.