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Таня Д Дэвис

«Snow White» — reflected the tall red-haired gentleman whom Tanya identified as Irish, casting a furtive glance at an attractive young woman sitting opposite him. «Yes, she looks exactly like Snow White, a well known character from a famous Disney cartoon film: rich chestnut hair, framing a high cheek-boned face with a healthy complexion, bright vivacious eyes and a smile flickering in the corners of her sensually carved lips. Even the cream coat she was wearing emphasized her whiteness against the predominantly dark palette of London underground. «What is she smiling at so dreamily?» — wondered David, for that was the name of the tall gentleman aho was looking at Tanya stealthily over the pages of «The Evening Standard». «One of the seven dwarfs? Or something in the paper she is holding in her hands? Very unlikely. She is reading «The Times» and there is hardly anything in «The Times» that could make one smile like this. If only I could read into her thoughts, if only it were that simple… Like with a computer: just press «enter» and you are there».

Tanya, for it was her whom David identified as Snowwhite, neatly folded the paper and put it on the seat by her side. Now her face acquired that special placid expression, serene and quiet, which is thought to be characteristic of the Slavs.

«She must be a foreigner», — reflected David. He couldn’t exactly say why, but there was an unmistakable air of foreignness about her. Romanian? Polish? Yugoslav? At least he could swear she wasn’t English.

Oxford Circus. Snowwhite stood up, leaving the paper on the seat and walked to the doors. As the doors opened she unexpectedly halted for a moment and looked back, flashing at David a bewitching smile. So quick. He didn’t even have the chance to smile back. He tried to follow Snowwhite with his eyes, but the huge black guy blocked his view, and in a second the multinational crowd of London underground swallowed up the young woman. Damn. Now he would never know why she had smiled at him like that. He felt really irritated. He wouldn’t have been so annoyed had Snowwhite’s smile been just a meaningless masque of politeness people in the West are so much used to. No, her smile was thoroughly meaningful, as if she wanted to tell him something, something really important, something like — «I know you wanted to ask me what I was dreaming about, and I would have certainly told you, but how could we break the rules of a civilised society? A strange man should not ask a strange woman what dreams she has just off hand…» Damn. Now he would never know. David sighed, reached for the paper that Snowwhite had left and began looking through it.