Полліанна
The little attic room
"There,there,youpoorlamb,"shecrooned,droppingtotheflooranddrawingthelittlegirlintoherarms. "Iwasjusta-fearin! I’dfindyoulikethis,likethis."
Pollyannashookherhead.
"ButI’mbadandwicked,Nancy—awfulwicked,"shesobbed. "Ijustcan’tmakemyselfunderstandthatGodandtheangelsneededmyfathermorethanIdid."
"Nomoretheydid,neither,"declaredNancy,stoutly.
"Oh-h!—NANCY!" TheburninghorrorinPollyanna’seyesdriedthetears.
Nancygaveashamefacedsmileandrubbedherowneyesvigorously.
"There,there,child,Ididn’tmeanit,ofcourse,"shecriedbriskly. "Come,let’shaveyourkeyandwe’llgetinsidethistrunkandtakeoutyourdressesinnotime,notime."
SomewhattearfullyPollyannaproducedthekey.
"Therearen’tverymanythere,anyway,"shefaltered.
"Thenthey’reallthesoonerunpacked,"declaredNancy.
Pollyannagaveasuddenradiantsmile.
"That’sso! Icanbegladofthat,can’tI?"shecried.
Nancystared. "Why,of—course,"sheansweredalittleuncertainly.
