Miriam Fry runs the Griffith Hotel with the warmth of a customs officer. She receives Peggy Carter for a residency interview and pronounces the references impeccable. A limp coming through the door earns a raised eyebrow. A question about ambition earns a better answer: Peggy intends to work the telephone company only until she is married, exactly the horizon Miriam likes to hear.
Then comes the sermon: In a city filled with temptation, debauchery, and mischief, the Griffith stands as a haven for proper young ladies, and its code of conduct is not open for negotiation. Attire is demure and elegant. Curfew is ten o'clock. No drinking. No men above the first floor, no exceptions. Miriam delivers each rule like scripture and asks if it is clear. It is.