He took his comb and dragged the whole heavy mop down over his eyebrows, and parted it in the middle and plastered it down upon his temples, trying to keep the wave out of it.
He looked different when he was through; and when he had pulled a prim, stiff-brimmed, leather-banded sombrero well down toward his nose, he could find the heart to grin at his reflection.
The money problem returned to torment him.

Of what use was this preparation, unless he had some real money to use with it?
He took off his shoes again, and his hat; pulled on his bathrobe over the khaki and went out and across to his mother's room.
Mrs.Singleton Corey had another illusion among her collection of illusions about herself.

She believed that she was a very light sleeper; that the slightest noise woke her, and that she would then lie for hours wide-eyed.

Indeed she frequently declared that she did her best mental work during "the sleepless hours of the night." However that might be, she certainly was asleep when Jack pushed open her door.

She lay on her back with her mouth half open, and she was snoring rhythmically, emphatically--as one would hardly believe it possible for a Mrs.Singleton Corey to snore.