Page:Dorothy Canfield - Rough-hewn.djvu/374

 He frowned, shook his head, put his hand to a book on the table, and said, dismissing his evocation with a shrug, "Eh bien … eh bien …!"

The lesson began but Marise heard not a word of it, not a word. She sat straight on the hard chair, her face a blank, and walked up the street with Jeanne, seeing in the blue twilight, the pale face of Jean-Pierre Garnier approaching them. The alcove curtains hung close before her, and Jeanne's voice was on the other side. And then, the burst of men's laughter from across the landing, cut short by Jeanne's closing the door; and then the heavy, dragging step in the corridor, the loud, harsh breathing. She waited, tense with fright, to see the curtains twitch open, and Jeanne's dreadful face appear … some one was speaking to her, urgently, insistently, by name.…

"Marise, Marise.…" It was Eugenia speaking to her, "Help me explain to M. Vaudoyer that I haven't the least desire to become an actress, or to know every word of Molière by heart! That I simply want lessons in how to pronounce French correctly, the kind of lessons my English-diction teacher gives me." She spoke with an impatient accent, and Marise coming to herself saw the two facing each other with angry looks.

M. Vaudoyer said indignantly, "It's not worth my while to give instruction to a student who will not do the necessary work."

"I will do any necessary work," Eugenia answered hotly, "but what has reading a lot of deadly dull old books to do with pronouncing French correctly? And if I'm not going to be an actress or a singer, what is the use of all those idiotic ah! ah! oh! oh! fee! fee! exercises?"

M. Vaudoyer sat down abruptly, and reaching for a large red-and-white checked hankerchief, mopped his bald head and perspiring face with it. He was evidently containing himself with difficulty and waiting till he could be sure of speaking with moderation before he opened his lips.