[FREDA does not answer.]
DOT. You haven't looked anything of a lollipop lately.
FREDA. I'm quite all right, thank you, Miss Dot.
DOT. Has Mother been givin' you a tonic?
FREDA. [Smiling a little] Not yet.
DOT. That doesn't account for it then. [With a sudden warm impulse]
What is it, Freda?
FREDA. Nothing.
DOT. [Switching of on a different line of thought] Are you very busy
this morning?
FREDA. Only this cloak for my lady.
DOT. Oh! that can wait. I may have to get you in to prompt, if I
can't keep 'em straight. [Gloomily] They stray so. Would you mind?
FREDA. [Stolidly] I shall be very glad, Miss Dot.
DOT. [Eyeing her dubiously] All right. Let's see--what did I want?
JOAN has come in.
JOAN. Look here, Dot; about the baby in this scene. I'm sure I
ought to make more of it.
DOT. Romantic little beast! [She plucks the footstool out by one
ear, and holds it forth] Let's see you try!
JOAN. [Recoiling] But, Dot, what are we really going to have for
the baby? I can't rehearse with that thing. Can't you suggest
something, Freda?
FREDA. Borrow a real one, Miss Joan. There are some that don't
count much.
JOAN. Freda, how horrible!
DOT. [Dropping the footstool back into the basket] You'll just put
up with what you're given.
Then as CHRISTINE and MABEL LANFARNE Come in, FREDA turns
abruptly and goes out.
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