so that he could see her among the statues and friezes

Amadeo Modigliani: Anna Akhmatova, 1911.

Years later she wrote in her memoirs, "Whenever it rained (it often rained in Paris) Modigliani took with him a huge old black umbrella. We would sit together under this umbrella on a bench in the Jardin du Luxembourg in the warm summer rain."
[...]
On one occasion she visited Modigliani, but found him absent. “We had apparently misunderstood one another so I decided to wait several minutes,” she said. “I was clutching an armful of red roses. A window above the locked gates of the studio was open. Having nothing better to do, I began to toss the flowers in through the window. Then without waiting any longer, I left. When we met again, he was perplexed at how I had entered the locked room because he had the key. I explained what had happened, 'But that’s impossible – they were lying there so beautifully.’”

Lucy Davies, Modigliani and the Russian beauty: the affair that changed him.