Was Steven right? Would any of these things
matter if I could play exceedingly well? How were
people judged in the world after all?
Madame Senetsky's dining room help were
efficient to perfection, moving in and out, between us
and over us without so much as creating enough of a
breeze to move a single strand of anyone's hair. And
they were so quiet, too. It was as though they were
ghosts and not real people. I saw how Madame
Senetsky's eyes moved from one to the other when
they served, cleared away a dish, or replenished
something. It was almost as if she was waiting for
something to drip, something to bump so she could
pounce.
Finally, just before dessert was served, she
turned her attention to us.
"Well, gentlemen, what do you think of my
new stable of horses?" she asked.
All of our teachers looked at us as if they were
actually going to make life-changing decisions that
very moment and tell one or more of us to leave the table, go upstairs, pack, and be gone. I found I was
actually holding my breath.
"I think you have a charming group, Madame
Senetsky," Brock Marlowe began. "Frankly, I can't
wait to begin working with them."
There was a silence we all expected to be filled
by one of the other instructors, but all we saw were
some nods and then eyes turned to Madame Senetsky. "Charm is something to be nurtured," she
began. "but it is in no way a substitute for hard,
dedicated work. These gentlemen will quickly