Though she still dyed her somewhat damaged hair, and strenuously pinched in her widening waist, she had ceased, since her fiftieth birthday, to forego the lesser comforts of the body.

As she was a person of small imagination, and of no sentiment, it is probable that she was happier now than she had been in the days when she suffered the deprivations and enjoyed the triumphs of beauty.
"What's that, Florrie ?" she inquired shrilly.

"No, I shouldn't get that if I were you.

It doesn't flare enough.

I'm crazy about a flare." "But I want a pink bandeau, mother," replied Florrie a little pettishly, as she patted her golden-red fringe.