Derry laughed rapturously.
"My dear child!" he exclaimed, when he could speak. "You are a veritable little field daisy. You really saved me money by going with me. If I had gone alone, I should have spent twice as much."
"How could that be?" she asked unbelievingly. "You would only hev give one order, so 'twould hev ben jest half as much."
"But if you had not been with me, I should have had a cocktail and a bottle of wine, which would have cost more than our meal. Out of deference to your youth and other things, I forbore to indulge. So you see I saved money by having you along. And then it was much better for me not to have had those libations."
"Honest true?"
"Honest true, hope to die! Cross my heart and all the rest of it! I'd lie cheerfully to some people, but never to you, Amarilly."
"My. Reeves-Eggleston—he's on the stage—said artists was allers poor."
"That's one reason why I am not an artist—a great artist. I am hampered by an inheritance that allows me to live without working, so I don't do anything worth while. I only dabble at this and that. Some day, maybe, I'll have an inspiration."
"Go to work now," she admonished.
"I must perforce. My model's foot is on the stair."