Only the snapping of the wood fire in the
grate broke the silence. At last, however, the man spoke.
"No, Pollyanna; I see. You couldn't leave her--now," he said. "I
won't ask you--again." The last word was so low it was almost
inaudible; but Pollyanna heard.
"Oh, but you don't know about the rest of it," she reminded him
eagerly. "There's the very gladdest thing you CAN do--truly there
is!"
"Not for me, Pollyanna."
"Yes, sir, for you. You SAID it. You said only a--a woman's hand
and heart or a child's presence could make a home. And I can get
it for you--a child's presence;--not me, you know, but another
one."
"As if I would have any but you!" resented an indignant voice.
"But you will--when you know; you're so kind and good! Why, think
of the prisms and the gold pieces, and all that money you save
for the heathen, and--"
"Pollyanna!" interrupted the man, savagely. "Once for all let us
end that nonsense! I've tried to tell you half a dozen times
before. There is no money for the heathen.
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