I resent this, I warn
you--I resent it. Send the girl to me. I'll do it myself.
With a look back at him LADY CHESHIRE goes out into the
corridor.
SIR WILLIAM. This is a nice end to my day!
He takes a small china cup from of the mantel-piece; it breaks
with the pressure of his hand, and falls into the fireplace.
While he stands looking at it blankly, there is a knock.
SIR WILLIAM. Come in!
FREDA enters from the corridor.
SIR WILLIAM. I've asked you to be good enough to come, in order
that--[pointing to chair]--You may sit down.
But though she advances two or three steps, she does not sit
down.
SIR WILLIAM. This is a sad business.
FREDA. [Below her breath] Yes, Sir William.
SIR WILLIAM. [Becoming conscious of the depths of feeling before
him] I--er--are you attached to my son?
FREDA. [In a whisper] Yes.
SIR WILLIAM. It's very painful to me to have to do this. [He turns
away from her and speaks to the fire.] I sent for you--to--ask--
[quickly] How old are you?
FREDA. Twenty-two.
SIR WILLIAM. [More resolutely] Do you expect me to sanction such a
mad idea as a marriage?
FREDA. I don't expect anything.
SIR WILLIAM. You know--you haven't earned the right to be considered.
FREDA. Not yet!
SIR WILLIAM. What! That oughtn't to help you! On the contrary. Now
brace yourself up, and listen to me!
She stands waiting to hear her sentence.
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