"I can't, Johnny."
"I'd take you out, you know."
"I don't want to go."
"But look here, Lavender," said the younger man, seizing hold of Lavender's boat and causing the easel to shake dangerously: "he asked me to luncheon, too."
"Why don't you go, then?" was the only reply, uttered rather absently.
"I can't go without you."
"Well, I don't mean to go."
The younger man looked vexed for a moment, and then said in a tone of expostulation, "You know it is very absurd of you going on like this, Lavender. No fellow can paint decently if he gets out of bed in the middle of the night and waits for daylight to rush up to his easel. How many hours have you been at work already to-day? If you don't give your eyes a rest, they will get color-blind to a dead certainty. Do you think you will paint the whole place off the face of the earth, now that the other fellows have gone?"
"I can't be bothered talking to you. Johnny. You'll make me throw something at you. Go away."
"I think it's rather mean, you know," continued the persistent Johnny, "for a" fellow like you, who doesn't need it, to come and fill the market all at once, while we unfortunate devils can scarcely get a crust. And there are two heron just round the point, and I have my breech-loader and a dozen cartridges here."