Explore "Alice Adams" by Booth Tarkington on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
One morning, that autumn, Mrs. Adams came into Alice's room, and found her completing a sober toilet for the street; moreover, the expression revealed in her mirror was harmonious with the businesslike severity of her attire. "What makes you look so cross, dearie? " the mother asked. "Couldn't you find anything nicer to wear than that plain old dark dress?"
"I don't believe I'm cross," the girl said, absently. "I believe I'm just thinking. Isn't it about time?"