Until now, Aldous Crouch had not thought badly of Miss Whitledge. Oh, he thought her foolish for her decision to offer as a candidate, but in part blamed that to a lack of appropriate guidance in her life. This, though, was different. 

Please be aware that political discussions are both highly inappropriate and discouraged during the event.
To think that a child—for that she was, barely past twenty—would think to lecture grown men, men in positions of influence, in matters of decorum during a tragedy? Perhaps if she was of any significance to Magical Britain, she would be too busy actually deailing with the crisis to present herself in so would-be-maternal a light, and save herself some condesention.

Then again, Aldous had scarecely slept in two days (Miss Whitledge, with little in the crisis to occupy her, probably slept soundly indeed). Perhaps he would look at the note more charitably once he was better rested.

He tossed it in a waste basket instead.