SIR WILLIAM. [Bitterly] You've all your work cut out for you,
Studdenham.
Again STUDDENHAM makes the unconscious wringing movement with
his hands.
LADY CHESHIRE. [Turning from it with a sort of horror] Don't,
Studdenham! Please!
STUDDENHAM. What's that, m'lady?
LADY CHESHIRE. [Under her breath] Your--your--hands.
While STUDDENHAM is still staring at her, FREDA is seen standing
in the doorway, like a black ghost.
STUDDENHAM. Come here! You! [FREDA moves a few steps towards her
father] When did you start this?
FREDA. [Almost inaudibly] In the summer, father.
LADY CHESHIRE. Don't be harsh to her!
STUDDENHAM. Harsh! [His eyes again move from side to side as if
pain and anger had bewildered them. Then looking sideways at FREDA,
but in a gentler voice] And when did you tell him about--what's come
to you?
FREDA. Last night.
STUDDENHAM. Oh! [With sudden menace] You young--! [He makes a
convulsive movement of one hand; then, in the silence, seems to lose
grip of his thoughts, and pits his hand up to his head] I want to
clear me mind a bit--I don't see it plain at all. [Without looking
at BILL] 'Tis said there's been an offer of marriage?
BILL. I've made it, I stick to it.
STUDDENHAM. Oh! [With slow, puzzled anger] I want time to get the
pith o' this. You don't say anything, Sir William?
SIR WILLIAM.
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