Fair (timidly looking around her, as though afraid). I have been
afraid to come in here before. It's very bad, isn't it, Marthy?
Marthy. I was jes tryin' ter get hit lookin' little better fo'
you seed it.
Fair (wearily). No matter, Marthy; leave it as it is. I'll help
you to-morrow.
Marthy. I rekon I better git dem pictures up in de attic fo' your
mar see um.
[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.
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