"After all," Lady Carey sighed, throwing down a racing calendar and lighting a cigarette, "London is the only thoroughly civilized Anglo-Saxon capital in the world.

Please don't look at me like that, Duchess.

I know--this is your holy of holies, but the Duke smokes here--I've seen him.

My cigarettes are very tiny and very harmless." The Duchess, who wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and was a person of weight in the councils of the Primrose League, went calmly on with her knitting.
"My dear Muriel," she said, "if my approval or disapproval was of the slightest moment to you, it is not your smoking of which I should first complain.

I know, however, that you consider yourself a privileged person.