As he attempted to rise, she made a
gesture of remonstrance. She did not offer her hand, however, and
her face was coldly reserved.
"I called to ask for--Pollyanna," he began at once, a little
brusquely.
"Thank you. She is about the same," said Miss Polly.
"And that is--won't you tell me HOW she is?" His voice was not
quite steady this time.
A quick spasm of pain crossed the woman's face.
"I can't, I wish I could!"
"You mean--you don't know?"
"Yes."
"But--the doctor?"
"Dr. Warren himself seems--at sea. He is in correspondence now
with a New York specialist. They have arranged for a consultation
at once."
"But--but what WERE her injuries that you do know?"
"A slight cut on the head, one or two bruises, and--and an injury
to the spine which has seemed to cause--paralysis from the hips
down."
A low cry came from the man. There was a brief silence; then,
huskily, he asked:
"And Pollyanna--how does she--take it?"
"She doesn't understand--at all--how things really are. And I
CAN'T tell her.
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