"Ah, you see, you make your fatal mistake. You assume I think myself better. Hypocrisy is the least of my many, many flaws." He raised his glass in thanks to Pete when he came over, and tipped him well, like he usually did. Giving Lena a tight smile, he leaned forward on the table and sipped his drink. "I haven't gotten through the last two thousand years by being liked, you know." He disliked being told what to do by some child barely in her formative years. What right had she to school him on manners? He preferred Mary's brand of out-and-out hatred to polite, judgmental smiles. He didn't look at her as he drank, not caring if she thought him self-pitying, because he was, and he knew he was.