o' this.

SIR WILLIAM. [Bitterly] You've all your work cut out for you,
Studdenham.

Again STUDDENHAM makes the unconscious wringing movement with
his hands.

LADY CHESHIRE. [Turning from it with a sort of horror] Don't,
Studdenham! Please!

STUDDENHAM. What's that, m'lady?

LADY CHESHIRE. [Under her breath] Your--your--hands.

While STUDDENHAM is still staring at her, FREDA is seen standing
in the doorway, like a black ghost.

STUDDENHAM. Come here! You! [FREDA moves a few steps towards her
father] When did you start this?

FREDA. [Almost inaudibly] In the summer, father.

LADY CHESHIRE. Don't be harsh to her!

STUDDENHAM. Harsh! [His eyes again move from side to side as if
pain and anger had bewildered them. Then looking sideways at FREDA,
but in a gentler voice] And when did you tell him about--what's come
to you?