next morning amazed and grief-stricken. She had had to go at once to the hairdresser's to have it evened. The hairdresser had assured Lillian that the bob was becoming; so it had remained short for over a year now. There had been a time though when Lillian had said, "What! Cut my hair? I should say not. It's the only first-class feature God gave me."
Lillian always used a great deal of make-up. It went on thick now. Pink cheeks, red lips, black brows and lashes. There was little of the real Lillian Cory left when she was finished. A mask surmounted by a crown of gorgeous hair, and that so perfect that it too looked unreal. She leaned across the bureau to look closely at herself in the mirror. Her short upper lip kept her mouth perpetually parted and her teeth showing. They were good teeth. Strong and white. Her nose was too small for beauty but it was straight, and the tiny nose conspired with extremely large gray eyes to give an elfin quality, a whimsical expression to the face of Lillian Cory.
She opened a diminutive bottle of Coty's L'Origan and laid the glass stopper first against one ear lobe and then against the other. Her hat was a black felt with green roses worked upon it in worsted. She pulled it down over her full head of hair. It covered her brows, and the narrow peak of the hat gave a faint military smartness to the outline of her head.
She drew her cape over her shoulders. It was black broadcloth and there was a collar of so-called fox. It looked well and didn't shed. Lillian asked no more than that of a fur collar.
