Jane was delighted with the scheme. She had never had five shillings to spend before, and was enthralled to find that it would buy not only paper and poisons and plates, but also a mackintosh coat for her camera. Then she took snapshots indoors and outdoors, at all times and in all weathers, with catholic indifference to subject and suitability.
"The book says one has to learn by experience," she said, showing me a pile of under-exposures. "This one of you is very good—the only pity is that I didn't get your head into the photo." This was one of many small details.
Jane looked forward feverishly to the payment of the second instalment.
"You'll have to put it by," I said. "You have plenty of paper and things left, haven't you?"
"Yes, but I want a dormouse."
"Oh, but that wouldn't be legal," I said. "That would be a misappropriation of trust funds."
"What's that?" said Jane.
"Well," I said, "don't you see that the money's given to endow your camera, and must be spent on that camera and nothing else?"
"But there's nothing more to get for it," urged Jane.
"Then the money must accumulate interest until there is," I said.