you the same. What's the use of that with me? Look at me! Wasn't
he with you when you went for your holiday this summer?

FREDA. He's--always--behaved--like--a--gentleman.

LADY CHESHIRE. Like a man you mean!

FREDA. It hasn't been his fault! I love him so.

LADY CHESHIRE turns abruptly, and begins to walk up and down the
room. Then stopping, she looks intently at FREDA.

LADY CHESHIRE. I don't know what to say to you. It's simple
madness! It can't, and shan't go on.

FREDA. [Sullenly] I know I'm not his equal, but I am--somebody.

LADY CHESHIRE. [Answering this first assertion of rights with a
sudden steeliness] Does he love you now?

FREDA. That's not fair--it's not fair.

LADY CHESHIRE. If men are like gunpowder, Freda, women are not. If
you've lost him it's been your own fault.

FREDA. But he does love me, he must. It's only four months.

LADY CHESHIRE. [Looking down, and speaking rapidly] Listen to me.
I love my son, but I know him--I know all his kind of man. I've
lived with one for thirty years. I know the way their senses work.