Me it always seemed to that a moment, when meet love of all life, must be as in the cinema. However when in the second Tuesday of the last year of educating Grace Таун with a десятиминутным delay entered the theatrical studio of missis of Биди, I nothing such did not feel. There was neither retarded-action, nor wind nor hysterical music, and my heart did not stop exactly. And, can, because she was new or not such, as all, or one a look to her was enough, to understand: some particle of her soul is broken, is a missis of Биди nothing said her. I looked at her yet two times, but under an end quite forgot about her existence. And when she went out unnoticed, nobody already had taken no notice on her. So that, as see, this history not about love at first blush. But however it is history of love. Well or type that.