"To what end?" she asked a little louder than intended. She snatched her hand away. "Dancing does not feed me, Monsieur, work does." And then she turned away so he wouldn't see that she was in tears now. She dashes one or two angrily away. "It doesn't matter," she said again softly, "I'm just an orphan trying to find some security. Dancing won't give that to me." And with that, she turned away altogether.