“Without opening his eyes, Boris groped around the bed with his hand. Empty. Very good. This means that, leaving the sleeping owner, the guests left and did not forget anyone. But they could, by the way. Or, even worse, another enthusiast who imagined herself to be a muse could remain on her own initiative in order to “make her modest contribution to the dying art through selfless service to the Artist.” One day, one of these hid among the unfinished sculptures, fell asleep, and Boris almost had a heart attack when one of the figures moved in the pre-dawn darkness. “Why does this happen,” he thought sadly. “It seems like you’re already ready to work, but as soon as another group of absolutely uninteresting, unnecessary and completely insignificant people shows up, you happily drop everything and join the general fun.”