We can't have the old dumb servitor because there isn't room for two in the flat when one is lying down.

We must pall the barge all its length in blackest samite.

That old black shawl of your mother's will be just the thing, Diana." The black shawl having been procured, Anne spread it over the flat and then lay down on the bottom, with closed eyes and hands folded over her breast.
"Oh, she does look really dead," whispered Ruby Gillis nervously, watching the still, white little face under the flickering shadows of the birches.

"It makes me feel frightened, girls.

Do you suppose it's really right to act like this?
Mrs.Lynde says that all play-acting is abominably wicked." "Ruby, you shouldn't talk about Mrs.Lynde," said Anne severely.