Take the slap for what it was, a jealous rival's frantic comment on her impregnable success that would have been something to share with Bogdan, and soon put out of mind. Take it as an emblem, a summons to respond to the whispery needs she'd been harboring for months this would be worth keeping to herself, even cherishing. Yes, she would cherish poor Gabriela's slap. She'd laughed to herself then, but saw with distaste that the hand applying henna to her lips was trembling. Misery is wrong, she said to herself, mine no less than Gabriela's, and she only wants what I have.
Misery is always wrong.
Crisis in the life of an actress. She had loved being an actress because the theatre seemed to her nothing less than the truth. A higher truth. Acting in a play, one of the great plays, you became better than you really were. You said only words that were sculpted, necessary, exalting.