But
child, you mustn't talk to father to-day. You mustn't stay here any
longer.
ERMYNTRUDE: But why not, mother?
MRS. SLADDER: Well, child, he's been smoking one of those big cigars
again, and he's absent-like. And he's been talking a good deal with Mr.
Splurge. It's one of his great days, I think, Ermyntrude. I feel sure it
is. One of those days that has given us all this money, and all these
fine houses, with all those little birds that his gentlemen friends
shoot. He has an idea!
ERMYNTRUDE: O, mother, do you really think so?
MRS. SLADDER: I'm sure of it, child. (_Looking out._) There! There he
is! Walking along that path that they made. I can see he's got an idea.
How like Napoleon.[*] He's walking with Mr. Splurge. They're coming in
now. Come along, Ermyntrude, we mustn't disturb him to-day. He has some
great idea, some great idea.
[Footnote *: (N.B.--SLADDER _is not in the very least like Napoleon._)]
ERMYNTRUDE: How splendid, mother! What do you think it is?
MRS. SLADDER: Ah. I could never explain it to you, even if I knew. It is
business, child, business. It isn't everybody that can understand
business.
ERMYNTRUDE: I hear them coming, mother.
MRS. SLADDER: There must be things we can never understand: things too
deep for us like.
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