The Empty Canvas by Alberto Moravia Page A

thinking that Balestrieri had not exaggerated when he depicted her with the well-developed forms which had aroused my incredulity. She had in fact a magnificent bosom, full, firm and brown, which did not, however, seem in harmony with her torso—the slender, thin torso of an adolescent girl—and had almost a look of being, so to speak, detached from it. Her waist also was that of a young girl, incredibly slim and supple; but the adult quality noticeable in her bosom was again apparent in her powerful, solid hips. As she walked she thrust forward her bosom and pulled back her belly, and her eyes were fixed almost greedily upon the easel that stood near the window; and when she arrived in front of the canvas, she asked, without turning round, in her strangely expressionless, dry, precise voice: 'Well, where shall I stand?'
    I wondered whether there might be some hypocrisy in her attitude at that moment, and immediately had to admit that there was not. She had taken her position as a model quite seriously; even if she also perhaps suspected that it was only a pretext for a different sort of relationship. But in her mind, so it seemed to me, there must be a kind of incapacity to connect one thing with another; it was this that permitted her to be sincere. Quietly I said: 'Don't stand anywhere.'
    She turned round in surprise. 'Why?' she asked.
    'I'm sorry,' I explained, 'but I accepted the excuse of painting you rather lightly. Actually I gave up painting some time ago. And when I did paint, I never painted models or any other object. I'm sorry.'
    Without showing any offence, she said in a tone of indifference: 'But you told me you wanted me to come and sit for you.'
    'Yes, that's true; but forget it.'
    Slowly, and with an air of attaching no importance to what she was doing, she took the towel which she had so far been holding against her breast and threw it over her shoulders, finally wrapping it round her body. Then she came over to the divan, a timid, diffident look on her face, as though I had invited her to sit down upon it, whereas in reality I had said nothing; and placed herself at the extreme end of it, away from me. There was a moment's silence; then, all at once, on her childish lips appeared the same smile that she had been accustomed to bestow upon me when she met me in the corridor. Feeling embarrassed, I said: 'Now you'll think badly of me.'
    She shook her head in denial, without speaking. She was gazing at me with her characteristically expressionless look; it was as if her eyes were two dark mirrors which reflected the outside world without understanding it and perhaps without even seeing it; and I felt my embarrassment increasing. It was clear that she did not intend to go away and that she was expecting me to start the second part, so to speak, of the programme. As I searched my mind for a common subject of conversation, Balestrieri, naturally, occurred to me. 'How long had you known Balestrieri?' I inquired.
    'Two years.'
    'But how old are you?'
    'I'm seventeen.'
    'Tell me how you first met Balestrieri.'
    'Why?'
    'Because -' I thought about it for a moment, and then went on, speaking quite sincerely '- it interests me.'
    'I met Balestrieri two years ago,' she said slowly. 'In the house of a friend of mine.'
    'Who was this friend of yours?'
    'A girl called Elisa.'
    'How old is Elisa?'
    'Two years older than me.'
    'What was Balestrieri doing at Elisa's house?'
    'He was giving her drawing lessons, as he did to me.'
    'What does Elisa look like?'
    'She's fair,' she replied briefly.
    I thought I could remember one of the many girls whom I had seen passing across the courtyard. 'Fair, with blue eyes,' I asked, 'with a long neck, and an oval face and tight, full lips?'
    'Yes, that's her. D'you know her?'
    'No, but I've seen her going to Balestrieri's studio a few times, a little before you started going there. Did Elisa have her drawing lessons at home or at the studio?'
    'At home, and at the studio too; it depended