"Oh there you are Roselle!" Meg caught up with Roselle in the hall. "A good sleep I hope."
"I suppose."
Meg skimmed her eyes down Roselle's green dress. "Oh and you look so dressed up! Are you going somewhere?"
"Yes. I need to speak with Manager Beauvais."
"Manager Beauvais? What for?"
They got out of the hallway and into the stage area. "Just a little business to attend to. Do you know where he is right now?"
"No, but ask my mother, she knows."
Right after she said that, Roselle ran ahead of her and went to Madame Giry's office. As Roselle suspected, Madame Giry was there, facing the window.
"Madame Giry?"
She turned around. "What is it Roselle?"
"I need to speak to the manager. Is he here?"
"No, he has a day off today."
Roselle couldn't wait another day to see him. "Where do you think he may be?"
"And why are you so urgent to see him?" Madame Giry replied, taking a seat by her desk.
"Business, that is all," she answered, weary of answering the same questions.
"And what business is it?"
"And what business do you have to know?"
Madame Giry, insulted with her niece's answer, responded, "Well Manager Beauvais is probably at home right now."
Roselle headed for the door.
"And Roselle," Madame Giry continued, "Don't talk to me that way again, you understand?"
Roselle gave no reply, and was out the door.
Outside it was a warm day, with a slight breeze. Every now and then some leaves would twirl about, as if they were dancing. The trees along the sidewalks have already turned colors of crimson reds and fiery oranges, and each passing day grew shorter. Roselle hadn't been out since she first arrived at the Opera Populaire, and on that day the sky was gray and crying. She closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth.
"Mademoiselle," said a man walking by. "You must be the new dancer."
"Yes, that is me."
He put out his hand. "Nice to meet you."
Roselle shook his hand. "You too."
"Name's Alain."
"Roselle."
Meetings like this occurred frequently as she headed to the stable. Usually they were men, probably single, wanting to know the new pretty face.
Before Roselle got to the stable, she was interrupted with yet another man.
"Where are you heading, mademoiselle?"
"The stable, where else?" she answered.
"I'm sorry, but the driver isn't there right now. He'll be back shortly."
"And when is that?"
"I don't know. A few minutes or so."
"I don't have time for this," she muttered, and walked towards the stable.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you!" the man called out. "Come back here!" He watched as Roselle entered the stable, debating in his mind if he should go after her.
"Who are you shouting to?" It was the driver, and in his hand was some bread.
"A lady," he pointed at the stable. "She just went in there!"
"Now why would she do a thing like that? Does she know…"
At that moment an ear-wrenching screech was heard, slowly dying away.
Both of the men exchanged terrifying glances with each other, and dashed to the stable.
