Hazel Barbour-Murray, sitting at the dressing room in her own bedroom, gives a final pat to her hair, swirls her dress before the mirror, and thinks "Sometimes being a parent calls for more than judgement, more than intelligence, more than talent. It calls for genius!" And now she starts down the stairs where in the living room, her son Pinky is looking spruced and combed, and is watching out of the window for Eunice's father to arrive...