e?

THE MAN. She was. And you shall see her face again before you die,
dead as she is. I have a photograph.

TARLETON. Good.

THE MAN. Ive two photographs.

TARLETON. Still better. Treasure the mother's pictures. Good boy!

THE MAN. One of them as you knew her. The other as she became when
you flung her aside, and she withered into an old woman.

TARLETON. She'd have done that anyhow, my lad. We all grow old.
Look at me! _[Seeing that the man is embarrassed by his pistol in
fumbling for the photographs with his left hand in his breast pocket]_
Let me hold the gun for you.

THE MAN. _[retreating to the worktable]_ Stand back. Do you take me
for a fool?

TARLETON. Well, youre a little upset, naturally. It does you credit.

THE MAN. Look here, upon this picture and on this. _[He holds out
the two photographs like a hand at cards, and points to them with the
pistol]._

TARLETON. Good. Read Shakespear: he has a word for every occasion.
_[He takes the photographs, one in each hand, and looks from one to
the other, pleased and interested, but without any sign of
recognition]_ What a pretty girl! Very pretty. I can imagine myself
falling in love with her when I was your age. I wasnt a bad-looking
young fellow myself in those days. _[Looking at the other]_ Curious
that we should both have gone the same way.

THE MAN. You and she the same way! What do you mean?

TARLETON. Both got stout, I mean.

THE MAN. Would you have had her deny herself food?

TARLETON. No: it wouldnt have been any use. It's constitutional.
No matter how little you eat you put on flesh if youre made that way.
_[He resumes his study of the earlier photograph]._

THE MAN. Is that all the feeling that rises in you at the sight of
the face you once knew so well?

TARLETON. _[too much absorbed in the portrait to heed him]_ Funny
that I cant remember! Let this be a lesson to you, young man. I
could go into court tomorrow and swear I never saw that face before in
my life if it wasnt for that brooch _[pointing to the photograph]._
Have you got that brooch, by the way? _[The man again resorts to his
breast pocket]._ You seem to carry the whole family property in that
pocket.

THE MAN. _[producing a brooch]_ Here it is to prove my bona fides.

TARLETON. _[pensively putting the photographs on the table and taking
the brooch]_ I bought that brooch in Cheapside from a man with a
yellow wig and a cast i