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.