It's marvelous, Anne thinks, that the air in Avonlea hasn't yet chilled, and that the leaves haven't fallen yet, though they are red and gold and glowing in the slanting October sunlight, and she breathes in the familiar scents happily and with a sigh, closing her eyes in bliss. Behind her, the music from the A.V.I.S's harvest party hums merrily
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But as thrilled as he is to see everyone, his attention is still mostly on Anne, here as in any place, and so when she slips away, he follows her.
There are very few sights that rival Anne Shirley happy and dancing in the late autumn afternoon sunlight. Gilbert Blythe has never seen any of them.
And so, for the moment, he simply watches, not moving close enough to catch her attention or distract her in any other way.
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He might be able to catch a few words as she chats lightly to her imaginary partner, blushing prettily at a gallant expression, complimenting him on his dancing, a few light comments on the pleasantness of the party, the music, and the world in general.
A warm breeze, smelling of harvested fields and dried grass and the few last bright flowers of autumn slips around her and teases bright hair out to float about her face when she leans her head back, dreamily.
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"Oh dear, Gil, but you startled me. I was afraid you were Charlie for a moment."
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