s they seat
the guests. The exit right is made by the centre aisle._

DISCOVERED. _Three ushers_, JOHNSTONE, FANSHAW _and_
TRIMMINS. JOHNSTONE _is sitting in the first pew_, FANSHAW
_standing outside and leaning over its front, talking to_
JOHNSTONE. TRIMMINS _is leaning with his back against the
side of the first pew across the aisle up stage. They are
dressed in long frock coats, with buttonholes of white
orchids. They are engaged in putting on white kid gloves._

FANSHAW. Is Fletcher in the vestry yet?

JOHNSTONE. Heavens, no! How long do you want him to hang around? But
he won't be late; he's serious this time.

TRIMMINS. I'm glad to hear it, because he's going to marry a splendid
girl. [_A short pause._] I hope to goodness he really loves her.

JOHNSTONE. Oh, he does, I'm sure. I'll bet you, if you like; will you
put up a silk hat on it? [_Rises._

FANSHAW. Yes, I'll take you!

JOHNSTONE. All right. [_Exit from pew. Holding out his hand which_
FANSHAW _takes, and they shake._] Done!

FANSHAW. And I hope I'll lose. And if I were he, I'd tremble in my
boots with a past like his, and the present getting so conspicuously
favourable.

JOHNSTONE. Oh, I don't believe in your boomerang pasts!

FANSHAW. And I don't believe Fletcher can have one single memory of
his own which he wouldn't rather forget since he has come to care for
Marion Wolton. [_Crosses to pew._ JOHNSTONE _crosses_.

TRIMMINS. Yes, but don't you think a fellow can sow his wild oats and
be done with them, and become a good man and an honest citizen.

FANSHAW. Of course I do, else, good Lord, where'd I be! We can't all
be ideal chaps like Douglas Rhodes. But there are oats and _oats_, and
Fletcher's are--oats!

JOHNSTONE. Well, he's sorry for them. [_Crosses to pew. As_ DOUGLAS
RHODES _enters_, TRIMMINS _exits._ RHODES _is also dressed as an usher
and comes up the aisle in time to hear_ JOHNSTONE'S _speech, as he
joins them._

DOUGLAS. Who's sorry for what?

JOHNSTONE. Fletcher for--for--for--everything!

DOUGLAS. Hum-- [_He goes up left._

FANSHAW. If he's _honestly_ sorry, he's no business marrying Marion
Wolton.

JOHNSTONE. Why not?

FANSHAW. He has a debt to be paid. He can't wash his hands of the kind
of things he's done; if he were in earnest in regretting his old life,
he would do something to make up for it.

JOHNSTONE. Well, isn't he? He's going to marry a nice girl and settle
down.

FANS