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"
Well
,
hardly
.
I
have
some
pride
,
you
know
.
"
"
But
if
you
're
so
anxious
--
could
n't
you
swallow
your
pride
and
forget
the
quarrel
--
"
"
Forget
the
quarrel
!
"
interrupted
the
doctor
,
savagely
.
"
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
ca
n't
butt
in
and
say
,
'
Here
,
take
me
!
can
I
?
"
"
Chilton
,
what
was
the
quarrel
?
"
demanded
Pendleton
.
The
doctor
made
an
impatient
gesture
,
and
got
to
his
feet
.
"
What
was
it
?
What
's
any
lovers
'
quarrel
after
it
's
over
?
"
he
snarled
,
pacing
the
room
angrily
.
"
A
silly
wrangle
over
the
size
of
the
moon
or
the
depth
of
a
river
,
maybe
--
it
might
as
well
be
,
so
far
as
its
having
any
real
significance
compared
to
the
years
of
misery
that
follow
them
!
Never
mind
the
quarrel
!
So
far
as
I
am
concerned
,
I
am
willing
to
say
there
was
no
quarrel
.
Pendleton
,
I
must
see
that
child
.
It
may
mean
life
or
death
.
It
will
mean
--
I
honestly
believe
--
nine
chances
out
of
ten
that
Pollyanna
Whittier
will
walk
again
!
"
The
words
were
spoken
clearly
,
impressively
;
and
they
were
spoken
just
as
the
one
who
uttered
them
had
almost
reached
the
open
window
near
John
Pendleton
's
chair
.
Thus
it
happened
that
very
distinctly
they
reached
the
ears
of
a
small
boy
kneeling
beneath
the
window
on
the
ground
outside
.
Jimmy
Bean
,
at
his
Saturday
morning
task
of
pulling
up
the
first
little
green
weeds
of
the
flowerbeds
,
sat
up
with
ears
and
eyes
wide
open
.
"
Walk
!
Pollyanna
!
"
John
Pendleton
was
saying
.
"
What
do
you
mean
?
"
