H2. –at least, I have of late years. When I was young I used to imagine it was Geraldine, but I like Cordelia better now.(begin strikethrough)”(end strikethrough)
I2 asked Marilla with another rusty smile as she picked up the teapot.
J2. In vain she nibbled at the bread and butter and pecked at the crab-apple preserve out of the little scallopped [sic] dish by her plate. She did not really make any headway at all.
K2. “Weren’t you? Well, did you ever try to imagine you were in the depths of despair”?
“No, I didn’t.”
L2. The matron of the asylum made them for me. They’re fearfully skimpy. There is never enough to go around in an asylum, so things are always skimpy—at least in a poor asylum like ours. I hate skimpy nightdresses.