I'll go to Bill. I'll beg him on my knees.
SIR WILLIAM. Then why can't you go to the girl? She deserves no
consideration. It's not a question of morality: Morality be d---d!
LADY CHESHIRE. But not self-respect....
SIR WILLIAM. What! You're his mother!
LADY CHESHIRE. I've tried; I [putting her hand to her throat] can't
get it out.
SIR WILLIAM. [Staring at her] You won't go to her? It's the only
chance. [LADY CHESHIRE turns away.]
SIR WILLIAM. In the whole course of our married life, Dorothy, I've
never known you set yourself up against me. 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.
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