Shit, right, she's an art-type too, isn't she. One of the reasons he hasn't displayed quite the same level of animosity he's been hitting everyone else with since ending up in this dump. He glances down at it in surprise, as though having forgotten it was even there in the first place.

"Wh - uh, no. Not really." He shoots a glance at one of the windows, glimpsing the tavern's darkened exterior. "Lighting makes getting any kind of shot hell. All these candles keep messing up the balance."

Which is much easier and less suspicious to say than, for instance, that he's saving up his film for something a little more dangerous.