11

DOROTHY puts the first hat aside, tries on another one.  She arranges it on her head, admires how it looks on her in the mirror.

                       DOROTHY
      Go?  We just got here.
 
                        VIVIAN
               (tightly)
      Will you quit fiddling with these 
      hats and follow us… 
 
                       DOROTHY
      Follow you?
 
                        VIVIAN
      …before these saditty ofay heifers
      set their crosses on fire.

DOROTHY continues arranging the hat this way and that way, searching for the most striking effect.

                       DOROTHY
      Stop being a killjoy, Vivee.
 
                        VIVIAN
      Turn around and see for yourself.  

DOROTHY sighs in exasperation.