“Have you really got time to do it up for me?” Freda eagerly asked.
“Sit down, my dear,” purred Mrs. Manton as she placed a towel over Freda’s shoulders and began extracting hairpins. “What a respectable wad you really have. One could do wonders with half of it. Shall I give you that Paris touch I used once before?”
Freda nodded, “Uh, huh! Won’t it be grand?”
“Doubtless,” said Mrs. Manton. “But in the words of Shakespeare, What’s the big idea? Going out for dinner?”
“No.”
“Expecting Mr. Nutbrown Hennigar?”
“No.”
“Pure vanity, I suppose, then.”
“You haven’t guessed yet, Gertrude.”