"Oh, my picture!" she exclaimed anxiously. "I do hope it's not damaged!"
She started forward to pick it up, but Tod, by a quick jump, got there before her.
"No damage done!" he cried triumphantly. With a careless laugh he added: "Anyhow, it's only a picture."
"Only a picture!" she exclaimed indignantly as she clasped the precious canvas to her breast. "Don't you love what is your own? I've worked six long months over it. I wouldn't have anything happen to it for anything in the world. Don't you like pictures?"
He gave a broad grin as he answered:
"Pictures? I'm crazy for 'em—especially the kind engraved on a $500 U. S. Treasury note. I'm perfectly dippy over those."
"Dippy? What's that?" she asked, puzzled.
"Oh—you're not familiar with Broadway slang, are you? Well—'dippy' is most expressive and up to date. It means that one's joy over a certain thing is so keen that the mental faculties are put temporarily out of gear."
She laughed heartily. He was certainly droll, this American. He made her laugh and that in itself was a novel sensation. As she packed up her things, she asked:
"What is your life work?"