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Post by Rebecca on Jan 17, 2008 9:18:04 GMT -5
*Rebecca sat quietly in a corner, sketching in her notebook as her mother conducted a dance class at the far end of the room, tracing the lines of movement in the anatomies of the dancers.*
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Post by Philippe on Jan 17, 2008 9:21:10 GMT -5
*Philippe slipped unnoticed into the room and stood with his back to the wall, watching the dancers. In particular his glance was drawn to the fine figure of La Sorelli as she gracefully practiced her exercises at the barre. A single curled finger rested against his lips as he silently watched.*
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 17, 2008 9:23:08 GMT -5
"She is a very fine dancer," *remarked a small, soft voice somewhere off to his right. He glanced over to see a young girl in a dark dress and short cape sitting, her gloves pulled off so her rough, red, spindly fingers could clutch at a pencil stub as she traced the figures before her. She smiled slyly, but there was no malice or ill-intent in the glance she gave him, only the smug, all-knowingness which nearly every teenager possesses.*
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Post by Philippe on Jan 17, 2008 9:25:15 GMT -5
"Indeed," *he replied lowly, moving his gaze back to the dancers. The small, elfin girl disturbed him, and he could not say why.*
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 17, 2008 9:27:40 GMT -5
*Laying her book aside for a moment, the girl leaned forward with a mischevious glint in her dark eyes as she whispered.*
"There is a room--next to the dancers' dressing-room, and there is a thinly-papered hole in one wall, and you can see through it, and sometimes La Sorelli is wearing only a--"
"Rebecca Josephine, viens ici," *came the curt voice of the ballet mistress.*
"Oui, Maman," *said the girl, sullenly taking her notebook and going to sit in the chair her mother pointed to.*
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Post by Philippe on Jan 17, 2008 9:27:48 GMT -5
*And now he knew why.*
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 17, 2008 9:36:44 GMT -5
*Becca bent her head busily over her paper, scribbling with a deft hand until she leaned back, pleased with herself. Making certain her mother wasn't watching, she flipped the notebook over with a cheeky grin, showing Philippe a very detailed, very nude sketch of La Sorelli, biting back a giggle.*
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Post by Philippe on Jan 17, 2008 9:37:57 GMT -5
*Philippe very nearly choked but to his credit managed to make it out of the room and halfway down the hall before he sat down in an alcove, uncertain whether he wanted to laugh, cry, or go and strangle that little chit for reasons he wasn't entirely certain of.*
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 17, 2008 9:38:57 GMT -5
*Becca grinned to herself before clutching the notebook to her chest, claiming she was out to get some air to excuse herself to her mother before she ducked into the hallway, looking about as if she were half her age and on a hunt for Easter eggs.*
"...Monsieur?"
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Post by Philippe on Jan 24, 2008 5:36:36 GMT -5
*Philippe stood with a sigh and bowed stiffly.*
"Mademoiselle," *he said, polite but cold.*
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 24, 2008 5:37:36 GMT -5
"Would you like to keep it?" *she asked, tearing out the page and folding it neatly before offering it to him.* "Or do you still desire the original?" *she asked impishly.*
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Post by Philippe on Jan 24, 2008 5:38:17 GMT -5
"Such topics are entirely inappropriate for a girl of your age," *he said sternly.* "What would your mother say if she knew?"
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 24, 2008 5:39:12 GMT -5
"I'm sixteen," *she said with a frown.* "And I'll be seventeen this summer. And my mother does NOT know," *she said slyly.*
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Post by Philippe on Jan 24, 2008 5:39:44 GMT -5
"You draw well, yet you would waste it on such vulgar subjects?"
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Post by Rebecca on Jan 24, 2008 5:40:47 GMT -5
"You seemed to like it well enough," *she said coolly.* "Besides, knowledge of human anatomy is essential for any artist, and have not artists in the past done great paintings and sculptures of nude figures? Venus de Milo...David..."
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