Suppose they had fainted , one and all ! Suppose nobody ever came ! Suppose she grew so tired and cramped that she could hold on no longer ! Anne looked at the wicked green depths below her , wavering with long , oily shadows , and shivered . Her imagination began to suggest all manner of gruesome possibilities to her . Then , just as she thought she really could not endure the ache in her arms and wrists another moment , Gilbert Blythe came rowing under the bridge in Harmon Andrews 's dory ! Gilbert glanced up and , much to his amazement , beheld a little white scornful face looking down upon him with big , frightened but also scornful gray eyes . `` Anne Shirley ! How on earth did you get there ? '' he exclaimed . Without waiting for an answer he pulled close to the pile and extended his hand . There was no help for it ; Anne , clinging to Gilbert Blythe 's hand , scrambled down into the dory , where she sat , drabbled and furious , in the stern with her arms full of dripping shawl and wet crepe . It was certainly extremely difficult to be dignified under the circumstances ! `` What has happened , Anne ? '' asked Gilbert , taking up his oars . `` We were playing Elaine '' explained Anne frigidly , without even looking at her rescuer , `` and I had to drift down to Camelot in the barge -- I mean the flat . The flat began to leak and I climbed out on the pile . The girls went for help . Will you be kind enough to row me to the landing ? '' Gilbert obligingly rowed to the landing and Anne , disdaining assistance , sprang nimbly on shore .
`` I 'm very much obliged XXXXX you , '' she said haughtily as she turned away .
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