"If you don't like it, why do you keep it hanging there? Perhaps your wife would like to have it," she said.
He looked up at her with a sudden grin.
"She carted off ivrything as was worth taking from th'ouse," he said. "But she left that!"
"Then why do you keep it? For sentimental reasons?"
"Nay, I niver look at it. I hardly knowed it wor theer. It's bin theer sin' we come to this place."
"Why don't you burn it?" she said.
He twisted round again and looked at the enlarged photograph. It was framed in a brown-and-gilt frame, hideous. It showed a clean-shaven, alert, very young looking man in a rather high collar, and a somewhat plump, bold young woman with hair fluffed out and crimped, and wearing a dark satin blouse.
"It wouldn't be a bad idea, would it?" he said.
He had pulled off his boots, and put on a pair of slippers. He stood up on the chair, and lifted down the photograph. It left a big pale place on the greenish wallpaper.
"No use dusting it now," he said, setting the thing against the wall.