"Finally she returns!" Sophie raised an eyebrow and smiled slyly as Claire made her way to her dressing table. "Have you been off on another of your walks?"
Claire set the stack of books she was carrying on the corner of the table. "Yes," she said, sitting down on the worn walnut bench. "I needed to walk off that huge meal," she said wryly. She began to remove her shoes and stockings.
"Fair enough," Sophie chuckled. "We had a good laugh at your expense, I'm afraid." She picked up her hairbrush and began her nightly ritual of one hundred strokes. "What did you think of Andre Giry?"
Claire set aside her shoes and shrugged. "He's all right, I suppose," she said indifferently. Sophie and Michel were enthusiastic matchmakers, and Claire had learned to avoid expressing too much interest in any of Michel's friends. It seemed they were intent on seeing her married off to the first man who would have her, despite her desire to remain single and continue with her ballet career. She had no wish to be a housewife with a brood of brats to look after!
Sophie had very different goals than her friend, and was delighted to have won the heart of one of the orchestra members. Although they had not become officially engaged, it was clear that they would marry in the near future. Yes, she would make a wonderful orchestra wife.
Claire finished undressing and pulled her nightdress over her head. She turned back the down comforter and climbed into her cot. "I suppose you and Michel are already plotting which gentleman you will have me dining with next," she mused, drawing the covers over her shoulders. "Will it be the oboe player with the lazy eye? Or perhaps old Leon, the trombonist?"
Sophie's hairbrush hit the foot of Claire's bed with a thud. "Oh you are insufferable!" she cried. "I only want to see my dear friend as blissfully happy as I am with Michel."
"But I am perfectly happy," Claire objected. "At least I am when I'm not being dragged out to dine with strange men."
Sophie became very serious. "I believe that Giry fancies you, Claire," she confided. "He asked if we might all go out again tomorrow night."
Claire sighed. "Have you already accepted on my behalf?"
Sophie smiled sheepishly and turned down her bedside lamp.
Claire smiled thoughtfully. Giry was a pleasant enough fellow, not too old, not too flashy. And he seemed to appreciate her dancing talent. Perhaps another dinner wouldn't hurt.
