Bill.  Hadn’t you better be a little careful?

Mabel.  And never to see the hedge until they’re stuck in it.  And then straight from that hedge into the opposite one.

Bill. [Savagely] What makes you bait me this morning of all mornings?

Mabel.  The beautiful morning! [Suddenly] It must be dull for poor
Freda working in there with all this fun going on?

Bill. [Glancing at the door] Fun you call it?

Mabel, To go back to you,—­now—­Mr. Cheshire.

Bill.  No.

Mabel, You always make me feel so Irish.  Is it because you’re so English, d’you think?  Ah!  I can see him moving his ears.  Now he’s pawing the ground—­He’s started!

Bill.  Miss Lanfarne!

Mabel. [Still backing away from him, and drawing him on with her eyes and smile] You can’t help coming after me! [Then with a sudden change to a sort of sierra gravity] Can you?  You’ll feel that when I’ve gone.

     They stand quite still, looking into each other’s eyes and
     Freda, who has opened the door of the workroom stares at them.

Mabel. [Seeing her] Here’s the stile.  Adieu, Monsieur le taureau!

     She puts her hand behind her, opens the door, and slips through,
     leaving Bill to turn, following the direction of her eyes, and
     see Freda with the cloak still in her hand.

Bill. [Slowly walking towards her] I haven’t slept all night.

Freda.  No?

Bill.  Have you been thinking it over?
     [Freda gives a bitter little laugh.]

Bill.  Don’t!  We must make a plan.  I’ll get you away.  I won’t let you suffer.  I swear I won’t.

Freda.  That will be clever.

Bill.  I wish to Heaven my affairs weren’t in such a mess.

Freda.  I shall be—­all—­right, thank you.

Bill.  You must think me a blackguard. [She shakes her head] Abuse me—­say something!  Don’t look like that!

Freda.  Were you ever really fond of me?

Bill.  Of course I was, I am now.  Give me your hands.

     She looks at him, then drags her hands from his, and covers her
     face.

Bill. [Clenching his fists] Look here!  I’ll prove it. [Then as she suddenly flings her arms round his neck and clings to him] There, there!

     There is a click of a door handle.  They start away from each
     other, and see lady Cheshire regarding them.

Lady Cheshire. [Without irony] I beg your pardon.

     She makes as if to withdraw from an unwarranted intrusion, but
     suddenly turning, stands, with lips pressed together, waiting.

Lady Cheshire.  Yes?