Marilla set the candle on a three-legged , three-cornered table and turned down the bedclothes . `` I suppose you have a nightgown ? '' she questioned . Anne nodded . `` Yes , I have two . The matron of the asylum made them for me . They 're fearfully skimpy . There is never enough to go around in an asylum , so things are always skimpy -- at least in a poor asylum like ours . I hate skimpy night-dresses . But one can dream just as well in them as in lovely trailing ones , with frills around the neck , that 's one consolation . '' `` Well , undress as quick as you can and go to bed . I 'll come back in a few minutes for the candle . I dare n't trust you to put it out yourself . You 'd likely set the place on fire . '' When Marilla had gone Anne looked around her wistfully . The whitewashed walls were so painfully bare and staring that she thought they must ache over their own bareness . The floor was bare , too , except for a round braided mat in the middle such as Anne had never seen before . In one corner was the bed , a high , old-fashioned one , with four dark , low-turned posts . In the other corner was the aforesaid three-corner table adorned with a fat , red velvet pin-cushion hard enough to turn the point of the most adventurous pin . Above it hung a little six-by-eight mirror .
Midway between table and bed was the window , XXXXX an icy white muslin frill over it , and opposite it was the wash-stand .
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