Fletcher. Ask your uncle, Mr. Dawson! [Marion looks up questioningly, as if she suddenly remembered something. Servant enters.
Marion. Ask Mrs. Wolton to please come here at once.
Servant. Yes, m'm. [Crosses room and exits.
Fletcher. You remember the night of your fancy-dress ball and your father's—death— [He pauses—Marion doesn't answer, but looks troubled.] He took his life to save it from being—disgraced, because he was a thief!
Marion. Stop! [She draws herself up and looks Fletcher in the face. He stops. She goes to door left and opens it. He goes right. Enter Mrs. Wolton, a little frightened. Marion takes her hand and leads her down stage. Mrs. Wolton sees Fletcher, but does not bow. Fletcher bows. Marion takes Mrs. Wolton's hand and the two women stand, facing Fletcher who stands.
Marion. You repeat, if you dare, the vile slander of my father!
Mrs. Wolton. Your father?
Fletcher. All that I said is true, and more!
Mrs. Wolton. What is true? What did he say? [A pause. Fletcher remains doggedly silent.
Marion. Ah! You daren't repeat it before my mother! [Fletcher sneers.] You know she would prove the lie in your face! Did you think you would frighten me into marrying you! Do you think a man with a reputation like yours, could injure the reputation of a man like my father, loved by everyone!