To this man she had entrusted the pictures she had taken of the poor fisherman’s wife.
“How did they come out?” she asked as she entered his small, crowded room.
“Excellently, my dear.”
He held up some fairly large prints he had made.
“Oh! You’ve done them so well!” she exclaimed. “Won’t she be pleased!”
“She will,” he agreed. “I have a son who works on a Portland paper. With your consent I should like to send him some prints of these studies. They should show up well in the roto.”
“So little Norma makes the roto,” she laughed. “That would be something. Wouldn’t Carl Langer open his eyes!”
“What’s that pig got to do with it?” the old man demanded.
“He refused to take her picture. Said he couldn’t waste his time.”
“My dear,” said the old man, “time spent in bringing happiness to those who have very little of this world’s goods is never wasted.”