Explore "Anne of Windy Poplars" by Lucy Maud Montgomery on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Tuesday was a gloomy day in late November. Occasional cold, gusty showers drifted over the hills. The world seemed a dreary outlived place, seen through a gray drizzle.
-"Poor Dovie hasn't a very nice day for her wedding," thought Anne. "Suppose. suppose . . ." she quaked and shivered. "suppose it doesn't turn out well, after all. It will be my fault. Dovie would never have agreed to it if I hadn't advised her to. And suppose Franklin Westcott never forgives her. Anne Shirley, stop this! The weather is all that's the matter with you."