Then , wanting a candle to light her way down the cellar , she went up to the east gable for the one that generally stood on Anne 's table . Lighting it , she turned around to see Anne herself lying on the bed , face downward among the pillows . `` Mercy on us , '' said astonished Marilla , `` have you been asleep , Anne ? '' `` No , '' was the muffled reply . `` Are you sick then ? '' demanded Marilla anxiously , going over to the bed . Anne cowered deeper into her pillows as if desirous of hiding herself forever from mortal eyes . `` No . But please , Marilla , go away and do n't look at me . I 'm in the depths of despair and I do n't care who gets head in class or writes the best composition or sings in the Sunday-school choir any more . Little things like that are of no importance now because I do n't suppose I 'll ever be able to go anywhere again . My career is closed . 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 XXXXX the floor in despairing obedience .
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