Back when I painted her...

...she was not that enigmatic. I simply looked in my mirror, at myself, after she left the daily sittings, and quickly painted.

It was not her smile.

It was my own, a smirk of satisfaction. I found I could make her to my liking.

Nonetheless, her husband purchased the painting, small as it was. His vision was not good. It worked out well for me.

I was deeply involved in many other diversions at the time. Many more important tasks.

L. da Vinci