'No, no; don't have too many. It looks too arranged.'
She looked at the clock.
'It won't be five just yet,' said Anne. 'It's only eleven.'
'Yes; that's the awful part. What on earth shall I do till then?'
'Whatever I suggested you would do the reverse.'
'Shall I go for a long drive in the motor?'
'That's a good idea.'
'But it's a very windy day, and I might get neuralgia—not feel up to the mark.'
'So you might. I think, perhaps, the best thing for you would be to have your hair waved.'
'How can I sit still to have my hair waved? Besides, it makes it look too stiff—like a hairdresser's dummy.'