Julia groaned in spirit.
Josephine's brow knitted.

Not that anybody cared, really.

But as one must frown at something, why not at the bowler hat?
Acquaintances and elegant young men in uniforms insisted on rushing up and bowing and exchanging a few words, either with Josephine, or Jim, or Julia, or Lilly.

They were coldly received.

The party veered out into the night.
The women hugged their wraps about them, and set off sharply, feeling some repugnance for the wet pavements and the crowd.