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 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 XXXXX have green hair .
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