Anne: She's trying
to teach me how to cook. But I assure you, Diana, I am a dismal failure.
There's no scope of the imagination in cooking. You simply have to go by the
rules. Last time I made a cake, I forgot to put the flour in it. I was thinking
about the lovely joy about us, Diana. I imagined you were desperately ill with
small pox, and when everyone deserted you, I went over to your bedside and
nursed you back to life. Then I took small pox and died. And you planted a
rosebush by my grave, and watered it with your tears. You never ever forgot the
friend of your youth, who sacrificed her life for yours. It was such a pathetic
story, and I was crying so, that I forgot to put the flour in the cake. The
cake was a dismal failure. The flour is so essential to baking. It bubbled all
over the inside of the stove. It was a mess. Marilla was furious. I don't
wonder. I'm such a trial to her.
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