them. _[Gunner takes them from the table, and is creeping away, when
Mrs Tarleton puts out her hand and stops him]._

MRS TARLETON. Whats this, John? What were you doing with his
mother's photographs?

TARLETON. Nothing, nothing. Never mind, Chickabiddy: it's all
right.

MRS TARLETON. _[snatching the photographs from Gunner's irresolute
fingers, and recognizing them at a glance]_ Lucy Titmus! Oh John,
John!

TARLETON. _[grimly, to Gunner]_ Young man: youre a fool; but youve
just put the lid on this job in a masterly manner. I knew you would.
I told you all to let well alone. You wouldnt; and now you must take
the consequences--or rather _I_ must take them.

MRS TARLETON. _[to Gunner]_ Are you Lucy's son?

GUNNER. Yes.

MRS TARLETON. And why didnt you come to me? I didnt turn my back on
your mother when she came to me in her trouble. Didnt you know that?

GUNNER. No. She never talked to me about anything.

TARLETON. How could she talk to her own son? Shy, Summerhays, shy.
Parent and child. Shy. _[He sits down at the end of the writing
table nearest the sideboard like a man resigned to anything that fate