A woman returns from Paris after having one last hurrah before getting married and this story is basically her telling a friend all about her trip while the two of them have coffee. Interestingly, the story is straight monologue and there is no real interaction between the two women in the story yet, the way Yates writes it, the woman across the table, the woman listening and no doubt disgusted and annoyed by her friend, is VERY present. I disliked the narrator. I'm positive Yates intended it that way. She is to be despised for her pettiness, her selfishness, and her inability to detect those things about herself.
As always, I enjoyed Yates' style and the subtle ways in which he tells it EXACTLY like it is.