Her black hair was parted as if by a razor blade and plastered tightly in slablike masses while the tension of the braids was such that they stuck out on either side of the small head like decorated sign posts.

Weariness, disgust and defiance were painted visibly upon the elfish face.
"This is the best chair!" said Ann politely, "but if you'll excuse me I shan't get up.

Every time I sit down it makes a crease in a fresh place.
By the time church is over I look like I was crumpled all over.

It's the starch!" she added in sullen explanation.
Willits, who liked children but did not understand them, essayed a mild joke.
"Did you put some starch in your hair too ?" Ann flushed scarlet with anger and mortification and made no answer.
"It looked much nicer at breakfast," blundered on the professor genially.

"If I were you I should unstarch it--" he paused abashed by the glare in Ann's black eyes and turned helplessly to Callandar, who had just come in, resplendent in faultless church attire.
"Don't listen to him, Ann!" said the doctor.