Oh, but your eyes are so big and dark, and your hair's all dark, too, and curly,” said Pollyanna. “I love black curls. Mrs. Snow, you ARE pretty! I should think you'd know it when you looked at yourself in the glass.
“Wait – just let me show you,” she exclaimed, picking up a small mirror. “If you don't mind, I'd like to fix your hair just a little before I let you see it,” she proposed.
“Why, I – suppose so, if you want to,” permitted Mrs. Snow.
For five minutes Pollyanna worked swiftly.
“There!” panted Pollyanna, hastily plucking a pink from
Поллианна = Pollyanna
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Элинор Ходжман Портер
