Page 231 - pollyanna

visibly—he did know something of the affair between Pol-
ly Harrington and Thomas Chilton, but the matter had not
been mentioned between them for fifteen years, or more.
‘Yes,’ he said, trying to make his voice sound concerned
enough for sympathy, and not eager enough for curiosity.
In a moment he saw that he need not have worried, how-
ever: the doctor was quite too intent on his errand to notice
how that errand was received.
‘Pendleton, I want to see that child. I want to make an ex-
amination. I MUST make an examination.’
‘Well—can’t you?’
‘CAN’T I! Pendleton, you know very well I haven’t been
inside that door for more than fifteen years. You don’t
know—but I will tell you—that the mistress of that house
told me that the NEXT time she ASKED me to enter it, I
might take it that she was begging my pardon, and that all
would be as before—which meant that she’d marry me. Per-
haps you see her summoning me now—but I don’t!’
‘But couldn’t you go—without a summons?’
The doctor frowned.
‘Well, hardly. I have some pride, you know.’
‘But if you’re so anxious—couldn’t you swallow your
pride and forget the quarrel—‘
‘Forget the quarrel!’ interrupted the doctor, savage-
ly. ‘I’m not talking of that kind of pride. So far as THAT
is concerned, I’d go from here there on my knees—or on
my head—if that would do any good. It’s PROFESSIONAL
pride I’m talking about. It’s a case of sickness, and I’m a
doctor. I can’t butt in and say, ‘Here, take me!’can I?’

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