To phone. He will suggest to meet, and you will not rush to a mirror, shaking out on a way case contents.
He will suggest to call in, and you will answer, that it is more convenient to meet already in city centre.
You look the man in the face freely and openly.
You without shyness dare to correct a make-up at the partner.
You lateral sight see, how he looks at you.
You know, that all these sights mean and unmistakably define, when become for the man something big, than simply nice Barbie.
You all this time sit and ask yourself only one question: "What line I here am?!"
You even know the answer. And still you understand, that this good, lovely, intelligent, brought up, pleasant in every respect the boy, enamoured in you, never becomes an antibiotic, never can scratch soul so that then it would be desirable to die, but to recollect and recollect...
He waits for the invitation to coffee... You wish the man good night.
You drink in a drawing room cognac and you hate the one who has transformed you into a monster, incapable to become for others "Someone big"...
