Marion? Of course, I don't mind it turning, so much--but you know
appearance counts _everything_ with an audience until one begins to
speak. Fred says to leave it alone--"

"Well, you do it." Miss Rose leaned over the chair with a handful of
hairpins to place in the little box on the dressing shelf, and spoke
confidentially in the ear of her patron. "It's not my business to
knock the trade, Kate--but honestly, that sign up there, that says
'Hair Dyed at Your Own Risk' ought to say, 'to your own sorrow.' If
you start, you've got to keep it up or it looks simply frightful. And
if you keep it up it just ruins your hair. You have such _nice_ hair,
Kate!" She picked up a sterilized brush and began stroking Kate's hair
soothingly. It was not such nice hair. It was very ordinary hair of a
somewhat nondescript color; but Kate was her dearest friend, and
praise is a part of the profession. "What do you want?--a scalp,
shampoo, or just dressed, or a curl, or what?"

"What," Kate retorted pertly. "Just fuss around while I talk to you,
Marion. I--"

"Rumley won't stand for fussing. I've got to do something she can
recognize across the room. How about a scalp? You can talk while I
massage, and then I'll show you a perfectly stunning way to do your
hair--it's new, and awfully good for your type of face. How do you
like mine today?"

"Why, I like it tremendously!" Kate gave her an appraising glance in
the mirror. "It's something new, isn't it? Use plenty of tonic, won't
you, Marion? They charge awful prices here--but their tonic has done
my hair so much good! Listen, could you get off early today? I simply