Being a tutor of the French language with Grand Duchess Olga was very difficult: studying was much easier for her than for her sisters, and therefore she often neglected it, being lazy to prepare for the lesson. And yet you did not give up, and she did not give up her bad habit of coming unprepared for the next lesson, which began not so long ago.

You looked at her, pushing the book from where you get the material for her, along the way explaining to her the importance of the formation of French verbs and the use of auxiliary words, without which French would not sound so rich and pleasant to the ears. Olga herself listened without any interest, running her eyes over the open page of the book, turning her face to you several times.

Her fingers slowly wrapped around the tip of the page, feebly stroking it with her fingers, in order to keep herself occupied and not listen to such boring chatter from your mouth about the peculiarities of the language, which did not cause her any trembling feelings.

And while she was completely unbearable to listen to your speech, her gaze returned to your face, which she considered cute in some way. Her lips tightened slightly, her fingers no longer touched the page, and the book was forgotten by her. And after a few seconds, Olga finally said the following:

"I see, monsieur. The auxiliaries are the servants of the verbs. It's only poor 'avoir' which has to shift for itself."

There was a hint of politeness in her voice, and her eyes fell back on the book. She's learned to hide her obvious annoyance, so she's just silently waiting for your answer.