finish those letters!

With a deft movement she draws SIR WILLIAM toward the
billiard-room, and glances back at BILL before going out, but he
has turned to the writing-table. When the door is closed, BILL
looks into the drawing-room, them opens the door under the
stairs; and backing away towards the writing-table, sits down
there, and takes up a pen. FREDA who has evidently been
waiting, comes in and stands by the table.

BILL. I say, this is dangerous, you know.

FREDA. Yes--but I must.

BILL. Well, then--[With natural recklessness] Aren't you going to
kiss me?

Without moving she looks at him with a sort of miserable inquiry.

BILL. Do you know you haven't seen me for eight weeks?

FREDA. Quite--long enough--for you to have forgotten.

BILL. Forgotten! I don't forget people so soon.

FREDA. No?

BILL. What's the matter with you, Freda?

FREDA. [After a long look] It'll never be as it was.