“Is the root of all evil,” was the calm reply.
“Whew! this must be an evil old world!” exclaimed Braye.
“And isn’t it?” Zizi flashed back, her big eyes sparkling like liquid jet.
“Are you a pessimist, little one?” asked the Professor, studying the clever, eerie face.
“Nay, nay, Pauline,” and the small, pointed chin was raised a bit. “Not so, but far otherwise.”
“Then why do you think the world is evil?”
“Ah, sir, when one spends one’s life between a Moving Picture Studio and a popular artist’s studio, one learns much that one had better left unlearnt.”
The child face suddenly looked ages old, and then, as suddenly broke into a gay smile: “Don’t ask me these things,” she said, “ask Penny Wise. I’m only his Pound Foolish.”
“You’ll put on another foolish pound if you eat any more of that dessert,” growled Wise, scowling at her.
“All right, I won’t,” and the slender little fingers laid down the teaspoon Zizi was using. Then, in an audible aside, she added, “Hester will give me more, later,” and chuckled like a naughty child.