Please , Marilla , go away and do n't look at me . '' `` Did anyone ever hear the like ? '' the mystified Marilla wanted to know . `` Anne Shirley , whatever is the matter with you ? What have you done ? Get right up this minute and tell me . This minute , I say . There now , what is it ? '' Anne had slid to the floor in despairing obedience . `` Look at my hair , Marilla , '' she whispered . Accordingly , Marilla lifted her candle and looked scrutinizingly at Anne 's hair , flowing in heavy masses down her back . It certainly had a very strange appearance . `` Anne Shirley , what have you done to your hair ? Why , it 's GREEN ! '' Green it might be called , if it were any earthly color -- a queer , dull , bronzy green , with streaks here and there of the original red to heighten the ghastly effect . Never in all her life had Marilla seen anything so grotesque as Anne 's hair at that moment . `` Yes , it 's green , '' moaned Anne . `` I thought nothing could be as bad as red hair . But now I know it 's ten times worse to have green hair . Oh , Marilla , you little know how utterly wretched I am . ''
`` I little know how you got into this fix , but I mean XXXXX find out , '' said Marilla .
Green as at down if in of right to with