Rain upon one's hat

Here congregated from many a back-ground and social standing—although a close lot... none better would be found in many a room of any Grand Hotel in any free city of the world.      

Had a stranger appeared un-invited (they) would not recognise many from the variety of dresses— skits, trousers, coats and jackets with leather buttons—they might have been all strangers on a tour—each bound for a separate destination; yet now sit within specking distance of each other... talking turns in expressing their own thoughts and opinions—each talking without listening—engrossed deep in fog and mist (enough to divide them from each other's thoughts and options).

The educated in isolation... poring over their papers, absorbed in reading—yet listening to every word spoken (near or far) or leaned forward to gather a share of peanuts and chips—placed just that far out of reach.

Those drawn to playing cards or billiards, conspire against those requiring silence~silence like that of a late evening walk along a public railway—maybe disturb only by clatter of the rain upon one’s hat.

Time arrived - to leave - once the bell from the wall clock rang - those still able to stand and walk - did that very thing.