The sound of someone speaking French to her was enough to draw Juliette out of her perennial favorite. Accented French, to be sure, but that was to be expected when in America. She looked over as he helped himself to a seat next to her and quoted a line from the play; blonde, good looking if you liked the type. His costume was entirely lost on Juliette; they'd gotten the movie over in Paris, but Juliette didn't go see them often and when she did, her taste was more documentary or independent films than summer blockbusters.
The quote drew a faint smile from her, just the tiniest quirking of one corner of her mouth. "Pour être dévot, je n'en suis pas moins homme," she answered in kind. Although I am a pious man, I am not the less a man. "Funny how nothing changes in four centuries when a man is trying to have an affair." Always, 'I am a man, I have needs,' and 'we're not doing anything wrong.' "There are times I think half the comedy intended was really for women." Not true, of course, given that it was written in the seventeenth century, but a girl could dream.
She looked down at the food he was offering. It looked well-prepared, certainly nothing that had come out of the school cafeteria. "Thank you, but non," she politely declined. "I find that after having seen what the school currently has on offer, my appetite is somewhat... diminished." Her apple would suffice until she could get home and get something from the kitchen staff.