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