The speaker talks about a facelift in a flat, almost businesslike voice. The opening line, "cut and make an end of it," sounds like someone steeling themselves to get a nasty job over with. The cut is placed "behind the ear," where a surgeon's scar would hide, so the poem begins with the quiet, practical side of vanity.
The middle stanza is the strangest and sharpest: "to mar is better / than to be plain." The speaker would rather be damaged than ordinary. That is a startling thing to say, and it hints at how much pressure there is to stand out, or at least not to be overlooked. The last lines compare the surgery to buying a hat, and conclude that no hat costs as much as "a face done fine." It reads as dry, even sardonic, as if the speaker is half convinced and half mocking the whole idea.
The mood is cool and slightly uneasy. Nothing is shouted, yet the short lines leave you wondering what is being paid for, and what is being lost.