“My dear-” Pendleton said.

“I know. You don’t approve. A light, Tapkow.”

Benny lit her cigarette and watched the smooth face over the flame. Only her jaw made a sharp shadow. When she exhaled she didn’t say thanks. She turned back to her father and took another drag on the cigarette. She had an impatient way of smoking, an impatient way of standing with her arm on her hip and tapping one foot. Benny couldn’t see her feet because of the long evening dress she wore, but he could hear the nervous clicking of the shoe.

“Well,” she said, “it happened again. Your little Patricia, because she’s your little Patricia and her last name is Pendleton, walked right into it again. What do you say to that, Daddy?”

“My dear, if you will wait outside for-”

She laughed, a clear and ugly laugh. “Wait outside. That’s just about what happened half an hour ago. Wait outside! Do you know where I was tonight, Daddy?”

“Patricia, please!” Pendleton sounded controlled. “Have the courtesy to wait till-”

“Never mind about Tapkow, Daddy, just mind what I’m telling you.” She pulled on her cigarette once moreand threw it on the floor. “I was at the Wellbeys’ tonight The Wellbeys.’. That wonderful family with a house on Long Island, a cottage in Bar Harbor, and a wee place in Florida. And all told they haven’t got half the money that little Patty’s daddy has. And what do you think happened, Daddy?” She leaned across the desk, hate in her voice. “‘Did you say Pendleton?’ Mr. Wellbey said when Betty introduced me to her father. ‘Did you say Pendleton?’ And then he excused himself, and his wife excused herself, and everybody that came within arm’s reach excused himself except the butler, who came up with my wrap and told me the car was waiting to take me back. What would you and your gangster friends call that, Daddy? The freeze is the word, isn’t it? The freeze!” Her voice rose sharply.

Pendleton turned to Benny and waved at the door. “Wait outside, Tapkow. I’ll be with you in a minute.”