"But—but, Mother," says Gladys, "you're never going to let people see you like that, are you?"
"Why not, my dear?" says Mother.
"But your face—ugh!" says Gladys.
"Oh, bother!" says Mother. "I suppose you'd like to have me look like Aunt Martha?"
Gladys stares at her for awhile with her eyes wide and set, like she was watchin' somethin' horrible that she couldn't turn away from, and then she goes to pieces in a weepin' fit of her own. Nobody interferes, and right in the midst of it she breaks off, marches over to a wicker porch table where the mirror and washcloth had been left, props the glass up against a vase, and goes to work. First off she sheds the pearl earrings.
At that Mother sits down opposite and follows suit with her jet danglers.
Next Gladys mops off the scenic effect.
Marjorie produces another washcloth, and Mother makes a clean sweep too.
Gladys snatches out a handful of gold hairpins, destroys the turban twist that Marie had spent so much time buildin' up, and knots 'er hair simple in the back.
Mother caps this by liftin' off the blond transformation.