After the sessions, the model immediately dressed and left, arrogant, slender, elegant, in her dark blue dress and fashionable hat. She did not speak with the artist and did not show any interest in the drawings. The artist gallantly escorted her to the door.
"My name is Alexander," he introduced himself.
- Anastasia. Very nice, - she answered.
... The artist Alexander settled in the workshop high in the attic. In winter, the walls froze from the cold there, and in summer, hot air creaked from the sun-heated roof. Often Alexander, seized with inspiration, created an unknown masterpiece. The workshop was so cramped that perhaps other invited guests would have been furious with the amenities on offer. He dined at the inn. Subtracting information from albums with reproductions of great masters, he shook his head and thought about his professional future. He graduated from the University of Painting at the Academy of Arts and during this time he completely mastered the technique of drawing. Several of his works have already participated in city and regional exhibitions, receiving approving reviews. Alexander was already a recognized artist, a representative of bohemia, a secular lion.
The friendliness and docile disposition of the artist attracted people, his sociable character made Alexander the soul of the company. Soft humor, high intelligence and erudition stood out from the crowd, but the owner of these qualities never flaunted his merits, remaining himself, modest and charming.
Now Alexander was lying in his workshop on a sofa and dreamily was thinking about Anastasia, this young model. Obviously, she was from a poor family, since she began to earn extra money as a naturist. Most likely, she grew up without a father. Youth and beauty were her main wealth. Nevertheless, Anastasia was proud and arrogant, despite her non-aristocratic background. "Femme fatale," he thought.
Alexander decided to visit the exhibition and look at the art of other artists. Suddenly, he ran into Anastasia at an exhibition at the Museum, in the tenth hall on the second floor, stopping at Degas's paintings.
- How do you, Anastasia? Blue colour, in my opinion, filled the entire space of the picture, - said another woman, apparently Anastasia's friend.
Anastasia grinned and simply said:
- Ah, Maria, this is Degas's world, he's all like that, this is his calling card.
Standing nearby, Alexander drew attention to Anastasia, her manner of keeping herself and extraordinary beauty.
Throwing a fleeting glance, the artist could no longer tear himself away, completely fascinated by Anastasia's face.
The most delicate oval, huge eyes, slightly slanting, but blue and bottomless, thick, long eyelashes, a small nose, full lips with a pattern of the ancient Greek goddess.
And the hands were Venus, just not Venus of Milo, but the one with the hands - Aphrodite of Cnidus, a woman with long fingers, which musicians have.
- A really nice smile and what delicate skin, amazing! 'the artist marveled mentally.
Anastasia turned around, Alexander saw curls of silk hair descending along her temple, past a small, neat ear, lying in strands on her neck and shoulders.
The artist felt the need to get to know each other better, he said the first thing that came to mind:
- And you know that all four blue dancers are one girl.
Alexander said this phrase, as it were, by the way, but saying, all strained, waiting for the reaction of the listeners, as if his whole future life depends on it.
Maria was the first to answer, the woman looked closely at the work and did not notice any similarity.
Anastasia, on the contrary, looking at the interlocutor, said:
- This is just one of the versions, although I also lean towards it.
She noticed me! - the inner artist rejoiced, and to consolidate the success, Alexander said:
- My name is Alexander, I am an artist, but unlike Degas, I do not paint in pastels, but in oil.
Anastasia became interested, turned her head in the direction of Alexander and asked:
- Perhaps I am familiar with your creative works?
The artist shook his head.
- I rarely exhibit, mostly work on private orders, make interior paintings.
- Oh, I heard my friends say, you painted the walls in their villa, it seems in the hall and corridor of their new house.
Remind me what their name is? 'the artist asked, pleasantly surprised.
- Smith, they have finished the repair and already live there.
Alexander did not take his eyes off Anastasia.
- Good people, your acquaintances, I easily worked with them, we quickly approved the topic, I made sketches, they liked it, I translated it into material and quickly finished it, - the artist told about this order.
- And what happens the other way around? Lena asked.
- Anything can happen, - the artist answered evasively, - renovation, troublesome business, customers come across capricious, though in this case I simply refuse the order.
- How do you refuse, even after the received advance payment, and the work started? Maria looked at her friend in surprise.
Anastasia was also interested in the answer, the woman looked at the artist expectantly, although she was already familiar with his reputation.
- I do not take advances, and the beginning of work always carries certain risks, - the artist simply replied, not attaching importance to this phrase and not taking his eyes off Anastasia.
Maria had already begun to annoy the artist, Alexander restrained himself from harsh answers, but Anastasia attracted him like a magnet.
- How strange, the magnetism of this woman completely stunned and disarmed me, in her look there is charm and magic, he captivates and envelops at the same time, I seemed to fall into a cocoon entwined with a web of her beauty.
After going through several halls, the whole trio headed for the exit.