[She takes up one picture, mutilated beyond recognition, and tries
to cover it with her apron.

Fair. What is it, Marthy?

Marthy. 'Tain't nothin', honey. You go on back ter your mar and
let old Marthy get things straight.

Fair (with an effort). Let me see it--I'd rather, please. (She
holds out her hand; Marthy gives her the picture). Oh, Marthy, not even
this. They couldn't even leave his picture.

Marthy. Dar, my lamb; don't you cry when you bin so brave. Dars a
nother picture of Mars George in yo' mar's room. (She draws Fair's head
down upon her knee, stroking her hair). My blessed chile--my lamb!

Fair (raising her face and trying to stop her tears). There,
there, that was very foolish, and I won't any more. Take this away and
hide it.

[Marthy takes picture, rolls it in her apron, and starts to door.

[Enter Bev from the hall. He, too, is very changed. All his
boyish gaiety is covered with a deep sorrow. He tries to
speak cheerfully to comfort her.

Fair. Oh, Bev, I've been wishing so you'd come.

[She goes quickly to him. He puts his arm around her, comforting