"Not for the first time": there lay a sting! Why had you thought this time might be different from the other times?
Why had you broken your back picking those hundreds of violets?
Hating the fatuous young men in the doorways more bitterly for every instant that she had to maintain her tableau, the smiling Alice knew fierce impulses to spring to her feet and shout at them, "You IDIOTS!" Hands in pockets, they lounged against the pilasters, or faced one another, laughing vaguely, each one of them seeming to Alice no more than so much mean beef in clothes.

She wanted to tell them they were no better than that; and it seemed a cruel thing of heaven to let them go on believing themselves young lords.

They were doing nothing, killing time.

Wasn't she at her lowest value at least a means of killing time?
Evidently the mean beeves thought not.

And when one of them finally lounged across the corridor and spoke to her, he was the very one to whom she preferred her loneliness.
"Waiting for somebody, Lady Alicia ?" he asked, negligently; and his easy burlesque of her name was like the familiarity of the rest of him.