"No," said the rent-a-mammakin, "you cannot see her. She is
displeased with your score in the get-rich-quick race."
"I did my best," the boy Mallory sobbed. "But when it came to stepping
on all those faces, I just couldn't do it!"
The rent-a-mammakin arranged its features into a severe frown and
strengthened its grip on the boy Mallory's arm. "You knew that they
were only painted on the game floor to symbolize the Competitive
Spirit," it said. "Why couldn't you step on them?"
The boy Mallory made a final desperate effort to gain the bedroom door
which his mother had just slammed and before which the rent-a-mammakin
stood, then he sank defeated to the floor. "I don't know why--I just
couldn't, that's all," he sobbed. He raised his voice. "But I _will_
step on them! I'll step on real faces too--just you wait and see. I'll
be a bigger get-rich-quickman than my father ever dreamed of being.
I'll show her!"
"I'll show her," the man Mallory murmured, "just you wait and see."
He opened his eyes. Save for himself, the bedroom-office was empty.
"Rowena?"
No answer.