MABEL. [Returning to her mocking] Quite got over it?

BILL. Don't chaff me, please.

MABEL. You really are rather formidable.

BILL. Thanks.

MABEL, But, you know, I love to cross a field where there's a bull.

BILL. Really! Very interesting.

MABEL. The way of their only seeing one thing at a time. [She moves
back as he advances] And overturning people on the journey.

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 fli