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"Please," Ms. Fairchild said. "Not now."

"I can't help myself. I'm obsessed." Steven cried.

"Distressed is more like it," Howard muttered.

Ms. Fairchild showed us the large dining room, and then led us toward the kitchen.

Along the way we saw a wall full of framed photographs. She explained that they were all various shots of Madame Senetsky in her prime, each capturing another famous moment on a European stage. Costuming indicated productions from the Greeks through Shakespeare and into more modern plays, but there were also news clippings and reviews explaining the productions as well. When she was younger, she was quite striking. I thought. I was sure I might have seen her in an old movie.

After

the display of photographs were a number of trophies, plaques, and citations Madame Senetsky had won. They were encased m glass. Some had been awarded by royalty. We clumped around them, reading as much as we could.

"You can look at all that some other time," Ms. Fairchild said, rushing us along.

We stopped at the kitchen, where a short, elderly woman with her hair under a net was preparing what looked like roast duck. She glanced at us, but kept her attention solidly on her work.

"Mrs. Churchwell is responsible for all the cooking and food preparation here at the Senetsky school," Ms Fairchild explained. Even while she talked about her. Mrs. Churchwell kept her

concentration on her work. She runs the kitchen and has it organized as she needs it to be. No one is to move a cup out of place. All of you, on a rotation basis, will help with kitchen chores, cleanup, and the like. Tonight, your first night here, is the one exception.

"For tonight," she continued. "Madame Senetsky has hired help to conduct the dinner. That is because you will meet all of your teachers at dinner tonight, and Madame Senetsky wants you to give all your attention to them. I will show you where I will be posting messages, the roster, scheduling, and anything else you all need to know. It will be your responsibility to check the board daily." she emphasized.

"Chores?" Howard moaned. "What is this, summer camp or something?'"

"Clothing:" she announced instead of responding, and continued down the hallway to the laundry room. "You all are responsible for your own bedding, clothing, towels, et cetera. Anyone who needs instruction about working the washer and dryer will speak to Mrs. Ivers," she said.

On cue, a tall, thin, dark brunette entered behind us. She wore a short-sleeved white uniform and white, thick-heeled shoes. Her arms, although very slim, looked muscular, veins and arteries well embossed against her skin. Her lower lip looked smaller than her upper and seemed to lie unhinged, showing her bottom teeth.

"The soap powders and softeners are kept in this closet," she instructed, opening a closet door to demonstrate. She stepped back to pull a handle and lower the ironing board, "The iron is right here. Anyone who wants clothing sent to the dry cleaners should leave it in of these bags before nine A.M.," she said, showing us a drawer full of plastic bags. "The bill will be given to you and needs to be promptly paid," she said and looked to Ms. Fairchild.

"Thank you. Mrs. Ivers. Any questions about this, ladies and gentleman?"

"What if I want to send out my laundry?" Howard inquired. "Entirely."

Mrs. Ivers looked to Ms. Fairchild.

"Madame Senetsky frowns upon any

ostentatious show of wealth." she replied. "You will hear many times how important self-reliance is for people pursuing careers in the theater."

"I just don't want to waste my time,' Howard moaned.

"Your time and how it is used and not used will be organized efficiently, believe me," she told him sharply. "Learning how to be independent is not a waste of time."

"But..."

"Let's continue," she said.

Howard turned crimson with frustration and anger.

Ms. Fairchild marched us down the hallway until we reached a pair of dark brown, thick double doors embossed with flowers and birds. Then she stopped, turned, and addressed us.

"This is where the school boundaries are drawn. Beyond these doors lies Madame Senetsky's private residence. Under no circumstances, ever, for any reason whatsoever, are any of you permitted through these doors. If there is a reason for you to speak with Madame Senetsky, you will contact me and I will so inform her. I will now show you my quarters, so you will know where to go if you have any special requests.

"You enter the building only through the front door. You are permitted to walk on the grounds, of course, but do not. I repeat, do not enter the building through any side or rear doors, especially at the rear of the building. Any questions about this?"

We all stared at her and then looked at each other.