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.
[*] (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. And business is the most wonderful of them all.
[Exeunt R.
[Enter Sladder and Splurge through the window, which opens on to the lawn, down a step or two.