The Secret Code of Monsters

Chapter 84 Ch.84 Kate and Marissa Part 2

‘Even the carriage axle oil smelled sweet. ’

Pacetti wasn't kidding.

She had actually sniffed it secretly, sniffling, and it was the same as the turpentine in the studio - axle oil smelled like lard that was rich and had no shortage of food and clothing;

Turpentine is filled with the original fabric after the girl's skirt has bloomed and the fragrance of powder added later. It is the warm chest under the shirt of the gentleman behind the tie, filled with the stimulating and never-disappointing happiness emanating from the higher body. Full to the brim.

They walked around exuding this heart-warming scent all day long, not paying attention, but relying on scent to identify each other like rabbits or cats and dogs:

This is what they can do.

You can identify the person in front of you just by smell.

Is it a rabbit or a tiger.

The slightly pockmarked woman's face was very close.

With a weird expression, she pressed against Kate's face and sucked hard several times, as if she was choked by the rotten smell of mud on her body.

"You stink, Pacetti."

She slapped her hands and backed away.

She looked at this "simplely" dressed classmate in the locker room, at the wrinkled skin on her pale and dehydrated lips, and at the forehead and nose that had been smeared with cheap hair powder. She looked at it for a long time. Just enough pleasure.

"Don't put powder on your face, Pasetti. Are you short of this money?"

"Over time, this face will be ruined." She stroked her face, which was as smooth as a peeled hard-boiled egg, and flicked a few little fingers on it. "Without it, why would you be here?" What about 'socializing' with these people?"

Kate tugged at the strap of her skirt, lowered her head and got in contact with her.

"By the way, did you listen to what Teacher Parrett said?" The pockmarked lady covered her mouth and smiled gracefully.

Kate knew the laughter was neither genuine nor sarcastic—it meant nothing.

It's like gems embedded in silver rings, patterns on gold cups, gentlemen's hats, ladies' veils...

It is a kind of decoration.

Pointless but decent decoration.

“He’s already starting to look at who this year will be.”

The pockmarked lady walked lightly to Kate with her hands behind her back. There was undisguised malice in the face that Kate wished day and night to be pecked by vultures.

she says:

"What are you still dreaming about?"

…………

…

Snare drums, fiddles and horns played in a side room of the dance studio.

Separated by two layers of door panels and a short corridor, there is also a layer of velvet hanging cloth, so that the students in the dance room can hear the music clearly, but it will not be so harsh that it will affect the teacher's teaching.

The students danced gracefully, following the teacher's beat, sometimes stretching and sometimes shrinking.

Occasionally, he would pause and freeze in a certain posture, waiting for the silver-haired Mr. Parrett to correct him:

He wore a strange pair of silver-rimmed glasses, and his waistcoat and shirt under the waistcoat had no wrinkles at all.

The trousers were straight, but he was wearing a pair of dark brown soft fur indoor shoes.

If humans couldn't live so long, he really must have been two or three hundred years old - there were as many wrinkles on his face as a woman's skirt.

"Hands up, ladies and gentlemen!"

"The stage is like a candlelight in the dark in the eyes of those who watch it: standards! Achieve the standards I want! Otherwise, it will be like a piece of shapeless mud that has been stepped on - Mr. Weavert, you are not feeling well today. ?"

As long as the old teacher stared at someone with his dark brown turbid old eyes, the person being stared would tremble like a young rabbit that strayed into the eagle's nest.

The young man with curly blond hair was like this: he smiled and raised his arms.

"Don't smile at me. You should be ashamed, Mr. Weavert. If you go to the theater, to the stage, what will people say, 'Ah, this is Parrett's student. Is he too anxious to go out and accidentally put the soles of his leather shoes on?' Did you bring the mud to the theater?'"

A low laugh.

"This is nothing funny! Everyone! Look at yourselves!"

He crossed his hands and said, "Promise me, promise not to bring your stupidity to the stage! Imagine: the musicians are behind you, the audience is above you, at your feet, left, right, and everywhere. ! Every move you make, every lyric, every movement—"

"Mr. Evans, your tie is the wrong color today. If you and I are not blind."

The teacher, called Paret, was not very good at distinguishing the identities of the young men and women and the families behind them.

Because there are not many high-ranking people who can study here.

Of course, even so, there are still differences between families, and they are very big.

For example, Pasetti and the pockmarked lady.

"Twenty minutes rest, girls come over."

He waved and walked through the crowd.

Several girls came forward carrying skirts and surrounded the old man in the center.

"Teacher Parrett."

The pockmarked girl gave a crisp cry and smiled brightly. "I learned a lot today."

"I know exactly how much you have learned, Miss Paton."

Parrett didn't give any face, glanced at the girl standing next to him, and said with a hint of thorns:

"If you train according to your method, I'm afraid you can be my classmate next year. If you really want to pursue art like trees and grass pursue sunshine, you should learn from Miss Pasetti."

He ignored Payton's suddenly pale face, glanced at Kate Pacetti, and then glanced at the other girls.

"Girls, I will select the two best ones this week, and then they may have the "honor" to perform at the Garden Theater - you should know that since it was renamed, the stage conditions have become more and more stringent every year."

He took off his glasses and wiped them with a glasses cloth from his vest pocket:

"Seize the opportunity, girls. Since Congreve, how many people have become famous there. If you are pursuing fame, it can give you; if you are pursuing art, it can still give you."

"Money, fame, art - these are in your wrists and toes, in your waist and neck, in your dancing and singing."

"So, please don't blame me for being ruthless, okay?"

"Go and rest. Oh, Miss Pasetti, please wait a moment."

He asked the girls to rest on their chairs and drink tea, leaving Kate alone.

The expectant girl seemed to know what would happen next.

But what Paret said was a distance from what she thought.

"You are on the edge, Pasetti."

The old man put on his glasses again and stared at her with his long-clouded eyes. "One step further, and you will step into the circle... But you have never been able to take this step."

He was not as harsh as before, and used a tone that only familiar people would use to Kate.

"I don't know what distracted your energy and prevented you from concentrating on dancing - there is no problem with your singing, and your limbs are flexible enough..." Paret tried to hint in a tone that was not so hurtful.

It was just a little short.

This shortcoming made him particularly hesitant.

What made him hesitate was that even for the sake of reputation, he should at least recommend a child who is truly capable and talented.

And talent is the biggest mockery of a hardworking person.

Especially, when she failed after all her efforts.

Especially, this is the truth.