omarma!

[_Still she is watching and he is falling still._

[_At last when his cry of_ ZOOMZOOMARMA _comes almost unheard to that
incredible height and then is heard no more, she turns, and with
infinite neatness picking up her skirts steps down daintily over the
snow._

[_She is going Earthward as the curtain falls._

CURTAIN.

CHEEZO

_DRAMATIS PERSONAE_

SLADDER, _a successful man_.
SPLURGE, _his secretary and publicity agent_.
THE REV. CHARLES HIPPANTHIGH.
BUTLER.
MRS. SLADDER.
ERMYNTRUDE SLADDER.

SCENE

_The big house that_ SLADDER _has bought in the country._ SLADDER'S
_study. Large French window opening on to a lawn._

_Time: Now._

SLADDER'S _daughter is seated in an armchair tapping on the arm of it a
little impatiently._

_The door opens very cautiously, and the head of_ MRS. SLADDER _is put
round it._

MRS. SLADDER: O, Ermyntrude. Whatever are you doing here?

ERMYNTRUDE: I wanted to speak to father, mother.

MRS. SLADDER: But you mustn't come in here. We mustn't disturb father.

ERMYNTRUDE: I want to speak to father.

MRS. SLADDER: Whatever about, Ermyntrude?

ERMYNTRUDE (_taps the arm of the chair_): O, nothing, mother. Only about
that idea of his.

MRS. SLADDER: What idea, child?

ERMYNTRUDE: O, that idea he had, that--er--I was some day to marry a
duke.

MRS. SLADDER: And why shouldn't you marry a duke, child? I am sure
father would make it worth his while.

ERMYNTRUDE: O well, I don't think I want to, mother.

MRS. SLADDER: But why not, Ermyntrude?

ERMYNTRUDE: O well, you know Mr. Jones----

MRS. SLADDER: That good man!

ERMYNTRUDE: ----did say that dukes were no good, mother. They oppress
the poor, I think he said.

MRS. SLADDER: Very true.

ERMYNTRUDE: Well, there you are.

MRS. SLADDER: Yes, yes, of course. At the same time, father had rather
set his heart on it. You wouldn't have any other reason now, child,
would you?

ERMYNTRUDE: What more do you want, mother? Mr. Jones is a Cabinet
Minister; he must know what he's talking about.

MRS. SLADDER: Yes, yes.

ERMYNTRUDE: And I hear he's going to get a peerage.

MRS. SLADDER (_with enthusiasm_): Well, I'm sure he deserves it. 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.
Splurg