Pacifique turned with a grin and a cheerful good morning . `` Pacifique , '' said Anne faintly , `` did you come from George Fletcher 's this morning ? '' `` Sure , '' said Pacifique amiably . `` I got de word las ' night dat my fader , he was seeck . It was so stormy dat I could n't go den , so I start vair early dis mornin ' . I 'm goin ' troo de woods for short cut . '' `` Did you hear how Gilbert Blythe was this morning ? '' Anne 's desperation drove her to the question . Even the worst would be more endurable than this hideous suspense . `` He 's better , '' said Pacifique . `` He got de turn las ' night . De doctor say he 'll be all right now dis soon while . Had close shave , dough ! Dat boy , he jus ' keel himself at college . Well , I mus ' hurry . De old man , he 'll be in hurry to see me . '' Pacifique resumed his walk and his whistle . Anne gazed after him with eyes where joy was driving out the strained anguish of the night . He was a very lank , very ragged , very homely youth . But in her sight he was as beautiful as those who bring good tidings on the mountains .
Never , XXXXX long as she lived , would Anne see Pacifique 's brown , round , black-eyed face without a warm remembrance of the moment when he had given to her the oil of joy for mourning .
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