Margaret.
Heard of her? Wasn't it she who first engaged
me, sir?
Sir Robert.
She knew Freda Michel pretty well, then?
Margaret.
Naturally.
Sir Robert.
And equally naturally, in writing to her husband,
she mentioned the young woman who was to be
governess to her little girl. Shall I read what she
says of her in one of them?
Margaret.
[Rising again, seeing herself utterly beaten.] No, I
don't want to hear it. What does all this mean?
I see how it is. You are trying to make out that I
am somebody I am not. Out of the letters of a dead
woman, too! It's false. I'm what I say I am.
If you doubt it, send to Soho Square. You'll find
Margaret Schiller there——
Sir Robert.
[In great wrath, face to face.] You lie! Margaret
Schiller is here! You are Margaret Schiller.
[Dead silence for some moments. The girl looks into Sir Robert's face with the wild eyes of a captured animal. Then she puts on a defiant manner.
Margaret.
Very well, I admit it.
