Mimi herself was in a turmoil. She had not washed her teeth this morning. That was the most pressing problem.
“I believe I’ll chew a sassafras twig like our great-grandmothers did,” she said to Sue.
“Cut me one, too, while you’re in the woods,” Sue laughed.
Mimi laughed back but not about the sassafras twig. Sue was a sight on earth! She had on a sweater that hung below her hips and a skirt that touched her ankle bones and a pair of cast-off tennis shoes.
“You look as tacky as I did the day Betsy and I slipped off.”
“You don’t look so beautiful yourself,” Sue retorted. “At least I don’t smell!”
Mimi had forgotten about the mange cure. It was like eating onions or food seasoned with garlic. You didn’t smell it on yourself. Those near you were the ones who were offended. The clothes? They probably did make her look comical. She hadn’t thought of that; she had been too happy over the fact that they were Dit’s. Last night, or this morning rather, for it was daylight before the fire chief permitted them to re-enter College Hall, the Preps had been housed with the college girls. To Mimi’s great joy, she was assigned to Dit’s room. Any other time she would have been so thrilled she would have entered turning cartwheels but not last night. That was the closest call Mimi had ever had to real tragedy. Dit had been darling to her. She had stood right by her and held one hand while Dr. Ansley bandaged the bleeding one. Then she had tucked her in bed.
“Guess I’d better ask permission right now to go for a shampoo.”
“What will you wear?”
“What’s the matter with this outfit, really now, Sue?”