Freda.
Yes, that's the name. She keeps house for her
brother-in-law, seemingly.
Margaret.
And what—what is her brother-in-law's name,
Freda?
Freda.
Lord Robert—no, Sir Robert Temple.
Several Voices.
[As if thunderstruck.] Temple! Sir Robert Temple!
Freda.
Is that a well-known name in England, then?
[A strained silence, the men looking into each others faces.
Margaret.
[Her hand to her forehead as if she had been struck a blow.] Oh, quite—quite!
Otto.
[Plying Freda with food.] More bread and butter,
Freda. You must be as hungry as a horse after that
long journey.
Freda.
I am. Don't you see I am? But I mustn't stay
long. They'll be expecting me, and think I'm lost
if I don't arrive soon.
Margaret.
[After a pause, clutching at Freda's arm at at a
