Mr. Harrison flung the last sentence at Anne as explosively as if
he suspected her of some latent design of persuading him to give
Ginger up. Anne, however, was beginning to like the queer, fussy,
fidgety little man, and before the meal was over they were quite
good friends. Mr. Harrison found out about the Improvement
Society and was disposed to approve of it.
"That's right. Go ahead. There's lots of room for improvement in
this settlement. . .and in the people too."
"Oh, I don't know," flashed Anne. To herself, or to her particular
cronies, she might admit that there were some small imperfections,
easily removable, in Avonlea and its inhabitants. But to hear a
practical outsider like Mr. Harrison saying it was an entirely
different thing. "I think Avonlea is a lovely place; and the
people in it are very nice, too."
"I guess you've got a spice of temper," commented Mr. Harrison,
surveying the flushed cheeks and indignant eyes opposite him.
"It goes with hair like yours, I reckon. Avonlea is a pretty
decent place or I wouldn't have located here; but I suppose
even you will admit that it has some faults?"
"I like it all the better for them," said loyal Anne. "I don't
like places or people either that haven't any faults. I think a
truly perfect person would be very uninteresting. Mrs. Milton White
says she never met a perfect person, but she's heard enough about one
. . .her husband's first wife. Don't you think it must be very
uncomfortable to be married to a man whose first wife was perfect?"
"It would be more uncomfortable to be married to the perfect wife,"
declared Mr. Harrison, with a sudden and inexplicable warmth.
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