She was driving at rush hour and wasn't looking at the signs as she walked across the crossing. So it was her usual route - perhaps from work home - so she had to show up again. Boris decided to be on duty at the station. He remembered how he lost his voice when he saw this girl. And only now he understood those who told him about their love torments and sympathized with them. He began to beat himself up: "Why didn't I come up, ask her for her name!... I was always so sociable, and I didn't even dare to approach her. What if she would have told me that she didn't like me, not her type?
Boris calculated correctly, and a few days later a stranger appeared at the station with the same book. Boris headed in her direction. His legs did not obey him. With excitement, he began to talk nonsense:
- You know, every man's heart is closed, and his soul is darkened. Everyone tries to hide everything from others. That's why girls only at night begin to think and weigh the deeds and words said by the man! And while they dare to answer, he has to suffer greatly in anticipation. It even happens that they are completely indifferent to a person who loves with all his heart and soul. Why do you think girls are so cold?
Boris tried to make his speech vivid and expressive. He spoke so beautifully, as if he wanted to emphasize his uniqueness and sophistication. He noticed for a long time that girls love gallant young people who are distinguished by their intellect and speech.
- I think," he continued, "that the happiest person on earth is the one who has an attractive girl, tall, slender! And such girls love beautiful men, not like me. Trouble is for us, unsightly!
Before he could finish, the girl gave him a surprised look. He thought she didn't like his puffy lips. She looked upside down at him. He realized that he was a freak: a narrow forehead, a little flat nose, a wide face that seemed even wider from the red hair. Her muscular hands could have impressed her, but they were hidden by her jacket.
His tongue would have been better if he hadn't spoken to her! You should have just stood on the next escalator and looked at it from the outside! The stranger kept silent.
He followed her until she entered the courtyard of the Stalinist hill, which finally destroyed his faith in himself.
- Today I must get an answer from her! - A few days later, it hit him.
With these thoughts, he went under her windows. At dusk, the headlights of the cars flashed and the shop windows flashed. The traffic lights intensified the illumination with their intermittent yellow blinking. Traffic was tight, and some of the drivers were signaling.
Boris looked around and chose a place where he could see everyone entering the yard. "It would be good not to meet any of his acquaintances," he thought, for some reason, with the intention that if someone dared to talk to him, he would stop any conversations with a fake coldness and haste.
Here he saw his beautiful stranger in a white jacket and checkered skirt. The girl was walking fast, and it seems she was in a hurry somewhere. As she crossed the street, she did not pay attention to the regulator's instructions and he pierced her with a whistling whistle. But she, without paying any attention to him, continued her journey. Boris, who had followed her all along, caught up with her and now took her by the shoulders like an old acquaintance.
- Good evening, Mademoiselle! - He said.
When she saw him in front of her, she shuddered and covered her mouth with her hand.
- I ask you to listen to me for a moment! You can't imagine how much I've suffered all this time, I've lost sleep... - He put her hand on his heart and sighed heavily. - Look, it's keeping me awake!
Boris accepted the pathetic look of a convicted felon who prays for mercy. But the girl, pointing her finger at the clock, turned around and ran away.
"She didn't even scream out of fear! - He was surprised. - Why didn't she say anything, didn't she answer anything? Couldn't you say anything?
Boris decided to wait for her to return. He walked into the cafe across the street from the house, whose huge windows were turning him into a great vantage point. He ordered himself a cup of coffee on duty and waited.
Indeed, she appeared a few hours later. She was walking home in no hurry, waving her purse. Boris ran out of the cafe and ran after her.
- Why not? Why don't you answer me? Well, at least something can be said!
The girl was surprised, but not scared despite the late hour. She pulled a torn ticket to the theatre and a pencil out of her purse. Borisa was thrilled with the thrill of a man who had met a miracle. "I am mute," she wrote and smiled. She had a wonderful smile and a beautiful intelligent face. She was tastefully dressed, but not pretentious. Her hair was tidy in her bizarre hair. Flexible and elegant figure and elegant hands testified that she was a good dancer. But she didn't sing!
Shaken Boris began to look around confusedly, as if looking for someone. Then he began to slowly back away and, speeding up, rushed to the stop, as if he was escaping the plague. Before he turned around the corner, he turned around and looked at her fragile silhouette for the last time.