Page 233 - pollyanna

but I want to SEE the girl!’
John Pendleton came erect in his chair.
‘You must see her, man! Couldn’t you—say, through Dr.
Warren?’
The other shook his head.
‘I’m afraid not. Warren has been very decent, though. He
told me himself that he suggested consultation with me at
the first, but—Miss Harrington said no so decisively that
he didn’t dare venture it again, even though he knew of my
desire to see the child. Lately, some of his best patients have
come over to me—so of course that ties my hands still more
effectually. But, Pendleton, I’ve got to see that child! Think
of what it may mean to her—if I do!’
‘Yes, and think of what it will mean—if you don’t!’ re-
torted Pendleton.
‘But how can I—without a direct request from her aunt?—
which I’ll never get!’
‘She must be made to ask you!’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘No, I guess you don’t—nor anybody else. She’s too proud
and too angry to ask me—after what she said years ago it
would mean if she did ask me. But when I think of that
child, doomed to lifelong misery, and when I think that
maybe in my hands lies a chance of escape, but for that con-
founded nonsense we call pride and professional etiquette,
I—‘ He did not finish his sentence, but with his hands thrust
deep into his pockets, he turned and began to tramp up and
down the room again, angrily.

Pollyanna