Veronica

Veronica was playing the violin in a phone booth. Although I go past the place every week and hadn't seen her, she insisted she had been coming for a long time. Soft and melodious, with an uncertain smile, she was too good for her dirty surroundings.

She didn't think a photo of her would be any good, and only consented with the (very Russian) proviso that I remove her face. Which I have done, except the eyes.