[FREDA gives him a wild stare, and turns away.]
LADY CHESHIRE. [Looking from one to the other] I don't think
I—quite—understand.
BILL. [With the brutality of his mortification] What I said was plain enough.
LADY CHESHIRE. Bill!
BILL. I tell you I am going to marry her.
LADY CHESHIRE. [To FREDA] Is that true?
[FREDA gulps and remains silent.]
BILL. If you want to say anything, say it to me, mother.
LADY CHESHIRE. [Gripping the edge of a little table] Give me a chair, please. [BILL gives her a chair.]
LADY CHESHIRE. [To FREDA] Please sit down too.