SIR WILLIAM. What! [Hesitating] Well--we must talk it over again.
LADY CHESHIRE. Come to the billiard-room, both of you! Bill, do
finish those letters!
With a deft movement she draws SIR WILLIAM toward the
billiard-room, and glances back at BILL before going out, but he
has turned to the writing-table. When the door is closed, BILL
looks into the drawing-room, them opens the door under the
stairs; and backing away towards the writing-table, sits down
there, and takes up a pen. FREDA who has evidently been
waiting, comes in and stands by the table.
BILL. I say, this is dangerous, you know.
FREDA. Yes--but I must.
BILL. Well, then--[With natural recklessness] Aren't you going to
kiss me?
Without moving she looks at him with a sort of miserable inquiry.
BILL. Do you know you haven't seen me for eight weeks?
FREDA. Quite--long enough--for you to have forgotten.
BILL. Forgotten! I don't forget people so soon.
FREDA. No?
BILL. What's the matter with you, Freda?
FREDA. [After a long look] It'll never be as it was.
BILL. [Jumping up] How d'you mean?
FREDA. I've got something for you. [She takes a diamond ring out of
her dress and holds it out to him] I've not worn it since Cromer.
BILL. Now, look here
FREDA. I've had my holiday; I shan't get another in a hurry.
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