FREDA
(Pressing him back gently.)
Wait a minute. Let me think.
(Thinks a moment. Her face brightens.) Ah, the very thing. Why not send my Indian for your things? He can bring them here. That will give you a few minutes more of the warm—
VANDERLIP
(Interrupting, putting his arm out and around her waist.)
And of you, Freda.
(Freda lets his arm linger for a moment, then, warning him, by a look, of presence of Maid, gently disengages arm. Takes her time about disengaging it. Vanderlip sinks back comfortably on cushion.)
FREDA
(Turning to Maid.)