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Perhaps
it
won
t
wash
off
.
First
I
dye
my
hair
;
then
I
dye
my
nose
.
Marilla
cut
my
hair
off
when
I
dyed
it
but
that
remedy
would
hardly
be
practicable
in
this
case
.
Well
,
this
is
another
punishment
for
vanity
and
I
suppose
I
deserve
it
.
.
.
though
there
s
not
much
comfort
in
THAT
.
It
is
really
almost
enough
to
make
one
believe
in
ill
-
luck
,
though
Mrs
.
Lynde
says
there
is
no
such
thing
,
because
everything
is
foreordained
.
Fortunately
the
dye
washed
off
easily
and
Anne
,
somewhat
consoled
,
betook
herself
to
the
east
gable
while
Diana
ran
home
.
Presently
Anne
came
down
again
,
clothed
and
in
her
right
mind
.
The
muslin
dress
she
had
fondly
hoped
to
wear
was
bobbing
merrily
about
on
the
line
outside
,
so
she
was
forced
to
content
herself
with
her
black
lawn
.
She
had
the
fire
on
and
the
tea
steeping
when
Diana
returned
;
the
latter
wore
HER
muslin
,
at
least
,
and
carried
a
covered
platter
in
her
hand
.
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Mother
sent
you
this
,
she
said
,
lifting
the
cover
and
displaying
a
nicely
carved
and
jointed
chicken
to
Anne
s
greatful
eyes
.
The
chicken
was
supplemented
by
light
new
bread
,
excellent
butter
and
cheese
,
Marilla
s
fruit
cake
and
a
dish
of
preserved
plums
,
floating
in
their
golden
syrup
as
in
congealed
summer
sunshine
.
There
was
a
big
bowlful
of
pink
-
and
-
white
asters
also
,
by
way
of
decoration
;
yet
the
spread
seemed
very
meager
beside
the
elaborate
one
formerly
prepared
for
Mrs
.
Morgan
.
Anne
s
hungry
guests
,
however
,
did
not
seem
to
think
anything
was
lacking
and
they
ate
the
simple
viands
with
apparent
enjoyment
.
But
after
the
first
few
moments
Anne
thought
no
more
of
what
was
or
was
not
on
her
bill
of
fare
.
Mrs
.
Morgan
s
appearance
might
be
somewhat
disappointing
,
as
even
her
loyal
worshippers
had
been
forced
to
admit
to
each
other
;
but
she
proved
to
be
a
delightful
conversationalist
.
She
had
traveled
extensively
and
was
an
excellent
storyteller
.
She
had
seen
much
of
men
and
women
,
and
crystalized
her
experiences
into
witty
little
sentences
and
epigrams
which
made
her
hearers
feel
as
if
they
were
listening
to
one
of
the
people
in
clever
books
.
But
under
all
her
sparkle
there
was
a
strongly
felt
undercurrent
of
true
,
womanly
sympathy
and
kindheartedness
which
won
affection
as
easily
as
her
brilliancy
won
admiration
.
Nor
did
she
monopolize
the
conversation
.
She
could
draw
others
out
as
skillfully
and
fully
as
she
could
talk
herself
,
and
Anne
and
Diana
found
themselves
chattering
freely
to
her
.
Mrs
.
Pendexter
said
little
;
she
merely
smiled
with
her
lovely
eyes
and
lips
,
and
ate
chicken
and
fruit
cake
and
preserves
with
such
exquisite
grace
that
she
conveyed
the
impression
of
dining
on
ambrosia
and
honeydew
.
But
then
,
as
Anne
said
to
Diana
later
on
,
anybody
so
divinely
beautiful
as
Mrs
.
Pendexter
didn
t
need
to
talk
;
it
was
enough
for
her
just
to
LOOK
.
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After
dinner
they
all
had
a
walk
through
Lover
s
Lane
and
Violet
Vale
and
the
Birch
Path
,
then
back
through
the
Haunted
Wood
to
the
Dryad
s
Bubble
,
where
they
sat
down
and
talked
for
a
delightful
last
half
hour
.
Mrs
.
Morgan
wanted
to
know
how
the
Haunted
Wood
came
by
its
name
,
and
laughed
until
she
cried
when
she
heard
the
story
and
Anne
s
dramatic
account
of
a
certain
memorable
walk
through
it
at
the
witching
hour
of
twilight
.
It
has
indeed
been
a
feast
of
reason
and
flow
of
soul
,
hasn
t
it
?
said
Anne
,
when
her
guests
had
gone
and
she
and
Diana
were
alone
again
.
I
don
t
know
which
I
enjoyed
more
.
.
.
listening
to
Mrs
.
Morgan
or
gazing
at
Mrs
.
Pendexter
.
I
believe
we
had
a
nicer
time
than
if
we
d
known
they
were
coming
and
been
cumbered
with
much
serving
.
You
must
stay
to
tea
with
me
,
Diana
,
and
we
ll
talk
it
all
over
.
Priscilla
says
Mrs
.
Pendexter
s
husband
s
sister
is
married
to
an
English
earl
;
and
yet
she
took
a
second
helping
of
the
plum
preserves
,
said
Diana
,
as
if
the
two
facts
were
somehow
incompatible