He had defended himself on the grounds that she frequently did it herself, to which she had merely said that was beside the point—she didn’t like him doing it.

From Trying to Please by John Julius Norwich.  Page 93.  

Nevertheless, my memories of those evening parties are many and varied. There was Colette, barefoot and with her great fuzzy halo of hair, being carried bodily in by a large elderly gentleman and holding court from a sofa; there were those two arch villains Molotov and Vyshinsky—for the Paris Foreign Ministers Conference began in 1945—together with the Soviet Ambassador Mr. Bogomolov, whom my mother asked if he could arrange for me to go and stay with a family in Moscow or Leningrad for a few months to improve my Russian. He replied tonelessly: “Chez nous ce n’est pas la coutume.” [With us it is not the custom.]  I remember too another Russian diplomat finishing his drink and then, to my mother’s astonishment, crunching up his glass and swallowing it. This elicited a furious diatribe from his wife, to which he made a spirited reply. When my mother asked him what she had said he confessed that she had reproached him for his bad manners; he had defended himself on the grounds that she frequently did it herself, to which she had merely said that was beside the point—she didn’t like him doing it.