{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_69817/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_69817","id":"gutenberg_69817","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69817","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Plays/Films/Dramas","Comedy plays","Fantasy drama","London (England) -- Drama","Man-woman relationships -- Drama","World War, 1914-1918 -- Drama"],"text":"+---------------------------+\n                   |  THE UNIFORM EDITION OF   |\n                   | THE PLAYS OF J. M. BARRIE |\n                   +---------------------------+\n\n\n                              A KISS\n                          FOR CINDERELLA\n\n\n\n\n  +--------------------------------------------------------+\n  |              _THE WORKS OF J. M. BARRIE._              |\n  |                                                        |\n  |                                                        |\n  |            _NOVELS, STORIES, AND SKETCHES._            |\n  |                  _Uniform Edition._                    |\n  |                                                        |\n  |      AULD LICHT IDYLLS, BETTER DEAD.                   |\n  |      WHEN A MAN\u2019S SINGLE.                              |\n  |      A WINDOW IN THRUMS, AN EDINBURGH ELEVEN.          |\n  |      THE LITTLE MINISTER.                              |\n  |      SENTIMENTAL TOMMY.                                |\n  |      MY LADY NICOTINE, MARGARET OGILVY.                |\n  |      TOMMY AND GRIZEL.                                 |\n  |      THE LITTLE WHITE BIRD.                            |\n  |      PETER AND WENDY.                                  |\n  |                                                        |\n  |      _Also_                                            |\n  |                                                        |\n  |      HALF HOURS, DER TAG.                              |\n  |      ECHOES OF THE WAR.                                |\n  |                                                        |\n  |                                                        |\n  |                       _PLAYS._                         |\n  |                  _Uniform Edition._                    |\n  |                                                        |\n  |      DEAR BRUTUS.                                      |\n  |      A KISS FOR CINDERELLA.                            |\n  |      ALICE SIT-BY-THE-FIRE.                            |\n  |      WHAT EVERY WOMAN KNOWS.                           |\n  |      QUALITY STREET.                                   |\n  |      THE ADMIRABLE CRICHTON.                           |\n  |      ECHOES OF THE WAR.                                |\n  |       _Containing_: The Old Lady Shows Her Medals\u2014The  |\n  |          New Word\u2014Barbara\u2019s Wedding\u2014A Well-Remembered  |\n  |           Voice.                                       |\n  |                                                        |\n  |      HALF HOURS.                                       |\n  |        _Containing_: Pantaloon\u2014The Twelve-Pound        |\n  |           Look\u2014Rosalind\u2014The Will.                      |\n  |                                                        |\n  |                                                        |\n  |                _Others in Preparation._                |\n  |                 _INDIVIDUAL EDITIONS._                 |\n  |                                                        |\n  |      PETER PAN IN KENSINGTON GARDENS.                  |\n  |          Illustrated by ARTHUR RACKHAM.                |\n  |      PETER AND WENDY.                                  |\n  |          Illustrated by F. D. BEDFORD.                 |\n  |      PETER PAN AND WENDY.                              |\n  |          Illustrated by MISS ATTWELL.                  |\n  |      TOMMY AND GRIZEL.                                 |\n  |          Illustrated by BERNARD PARTRIDGE.             |\n  |      MARGARET OGILVY.                                  |\n  |                                                        |\n  |                                                        |\n  | \u2042 For particulars concerning _The Thistle Edition_ of  |\n  | the Works of J. M. BARRIE, sold only by subscription,  |\n  | send for circular.                                     |\n  |                                                        |\n  |                                                        |\n  |           NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER\u2019S SONS            |\n  +--------------------------------------------------------+\n\n\n\n\n             +--------------------------------------+\n             |             THE PLAYS OF             |\n             |             J. M. BARRIE             |\n             |--------------------------------------|\n             |                                      |\n             |                                      |\n             |                A KISS                |\n             |            FOR CINDERELLA            |\n             |                                      |\n             |               A COMEDY               |\n             |                                      |\n             |                                      |\n             |--------------------------------------|\n             |                                      |\n             |       CHARLES SCRIBNER\u2019S SONS        |\n             |   NEW YORK : : : : : : : : : 1923    |\n             |                                      |\n             +--------------------------------------+\n\n\n\n\n                        COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY\n                           J. M. BARRIE\n\n              Printed in the United States of America\n\n\n    _All rights reserved under the International Copyright Act.\n    Performance forbidden and right of representation reserved.\n     Application for the right of performing this play must be\n     made to Charles Frohman, Inc., Empire Theatre, New York._\n\n\n[Illustration: (Publisher colophon)]\n\n\n\n\nI\n\n\n_The least distinguished person in \u2018Who\u2019s Who\u2019 has escaped, as it\nwere, from that fashionable crush, and is spending a quiet evening\nat home. He is curled up in his studio, which is so dark that he\nwould be invisible, had we not obligingly placed his wicker chair\njust where the one dim ray from the stove may strike his face. His\neyes are closed luxuriously, and we could not learn much about\nhim without first poking our fingers into them. According to the\ntome mentioned (to which we must return him before morning), Mr.\nBodie is sixty-three, has exhibited in the Royal Academy, and is at\npresent unmarried. They do not proclaim him comparatively obscure:\nthey left it indeed to him to say the final word on this subject,\nand he has hedged. Let us put it in this way, that he occupies more\nspace in his wicker chair than in the book, where nevertheless\nhe looks as if it was rather lonely not to be a genius. He is a\npainter for the nicest of reasons, that it is delightful to live\nand die in a messy studio; for our part, we too should have become\na painter had it not been that we always lost our paint-box. There\nis no spirited bidding to acquire Mr. Bodie\u2019s canvases: he loves\nthem at first sight himself, and has often got up in the night to\nsee how they are faring; but ultimately he has turned cold to them,\nand has even been known to offer them, in lieu of alms, to beggars,\nwho departed cursing. We have a weakness for persons who don\u2019t get\non, and so cannot help adding, though it is no business of ours,\nthat Mr. Bodie had private means. Curled up in his wicker chair he\nis rather like an elderly cupid. We wish we could warn him that the\npoliceman is coming._\n\n_The policeman comes: in his hand the weapon that has knocked down\nmore malefactors than all the batons\u2014the bull\u2019s-eye. He strikes\nwith it now, right and left, revealing, as if she had just entered\nthe room, a replica of the Venus of Milo, taller than himself\nthough he is stalwart. It is the first meeting of these two, but,\nthough a man who can come to the boil, he is as little moved\nby her as she by him. After the first glance she continues her\nreflections. Her smile over his head vaguely displeases him. For\ntwo pins he would arrest her._\n\n_The lantern finds another object, more worthy of his attention,\nthe artist. Mr. Bodie is more restive under the light than was his\ngoddess, perhaps because he is less accustomed to being stared at.\nHe blinks and sits up._\n\nMR. BODIE (_giving his visitor a lesson in manners_). I beg your\npardon, officer.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_confounded_). Not that, sir; not at all.\n\nMR. BODIE (_pressing his advantage_). But I insist on begging your\npardon, officer.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I don\u2019t see what for, sir.\n\nMR. BODIE (_fancying himself_). For walking uninvited into the\nabode of a law-abiding London citizen, with whom I have not the\npleasure of being acquainted.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_after thinking this out_). But I\u2019m the one as has done\nthat, sir.\n\nMR. BODIE (_with neat surprise_). So you are, I beg your pardon,\nofficer.\n\n    (_With pardonable pride in himself_ MR. BODIE _turns on the\n    light. The studio, as we can now gather from its sloped\n    roof, is at the top of a house; and its window is heavily\n    screened, otherwise we might see the searchlights through\n    it, showing that we are in the period of the great war.\n    Though no one speaks of_ MR. BODIE\u2019S _pictures as Bodies,\n    which is the true test of fame, he is sufficiently eminent\n    not to have works of art painted or scratched on his walls,\n    mercy has been shown even to the panels of his door, and\n    he is handsomely stingy of draperies. The Venus stands so\n    prominent that the studio is evidently hers rather than\n    his. The stove has been brought forward so that he can rest\n    his feet on it, which ever of his easy chairs he is sitting\n    in, and he also falls over it at times when stepping back\n    to consider his latest failure. On a shelf is a large\n    stuffed penguin, which is to be one of the characters in\n    the play, and on each side of this shelf are two or three\n    tattered magazines. We had hankered after giving_ MR. BODIE\n    _many rows of books, but were well aware that he would\n    get only blocks of wood so cleverly painted to look like\n    books that they would deceive everyone except the audience.\n    Everything may be real on the stage except the books. So\n    there are only a few magazines in the studio (and very\n    likely when the curtain rings up it will be found that they\n    are painted too). But_ MR. BODIE _was a reader; he had\n    books in another room, and the careworn actor must suggest\n    this by his manner._\n\n    _Our_ POLICEMAN _is no bookman; we who write happen to\n    have it from himself that he had not bought a book since\n    he squeezed through the sixth standard: very tight was his\n    waist that day, he told us, and he had to let out every\n    button. Nevertheless it was literature of a sort that first\n    brought him into our ken. He was our local constable: and\n    common interests, as in the vagaries of the moon, gradually\n    made him and us cease to look at each other askance. We\n    fell into the way of chatting with him and giving him the\n    evening papers we had bought to read as we crossed the\n    streets. One of his duties was to herd the vagrant populace\n    under our arches during air-raids, and at such times he\n    could be properly gruff, yet comforting, like one who would\n    at once run in any bomb that fell in his beat. When he\n    had all his flock nicely plastered against the dank walls\n    he would occasionally come to rest beside us, and thaw,\n    and discuss the newspaper article that had interested him\n    most. It was seldom a war-record; more frequently it was\n    something on the magazine page, such as a symposium by\n    the learned on \u2018Do you Believe in Love at First Sight?\u2019\n    Though reticent in many matters he would face this problem\n    openly; with the guns cracking all around, he would ask for\n    our views wistfully; he spoke of love without a blush, as\n    something recognised officially at Scotland Yard. At this\n    time he had been in love, to his own knowledge, for several\n    weeks, but whether the god had struck him at first sight\n    he was not certain; he was most anxious to know, and it\n    was in the hope of our being able to help him out that he\n    told us his singular story. On his face at such times was\n    often an amazed look, as if he were staring at her rather\n    than at us, and seeing a creature almost beyond belief. Our\n    greatest success was in saying that perhaps she had fallen\n    in love at first sight with him, which on reflection nearly\n    doubled him up. He insisted on knowing what had made us\n    put forward this extraordinary suggestion; he would indeed\n    scarcely leave our company that night, and discussed the\n    possibility with us very much as if it were a police case._\n\n    _Our policeman\u2019s romance, now to be told, began, as we\n    begin, with his climbing up into_ MR. BODIE\u2019S _studio_.\n    MR. BODIE _having turned on the light gave him the nasty\n    look that means \u2018And now, my man, what can I do for you?\u2019\n    Our_ POLICEMAN, _however, was not one to be worsted without\n    striking a blow. He strode to the door, as he has told us,\n    and pointed to a light in the passage._)\n\n\nPOLICEMAN (_in his most brow-beating voice, so well known under the\narches_). Look here, sir, it\u2019s that.\n\nMR. BODIE. I don\u2019t follow.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Look at that passage window. (_With natural pride in\nlanguage._) You are showing too much illumination.\n\nBODIE. Oh! well, surely\u2014\n\nPOLICEMAN (_with professional firmness_). It\u2019s agin the regulations.\nA party in the neighbouring skylight complains.\n\nBODIE (_putting out the light_). If that will do for to-night, I\u2019ll\nhave the window boarded up.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Anything so long as it obscures the illumination.\n\nBODIE (_irritated_). Shuts out the light.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_determinedly_). Obscures the illumination.\n\nBODIE (_on reflection_). I remember now, I did have that window\nboarded up.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_who has himself a pretty vein of sarcasm_). I don\u2019t see\nthe boards.\n\nBODIE. Nor do I see the boards. (_Pondering._) Can she have boned\nthem?\n\nPOLICEMAN. She? (_He is at once aware that it has become a more\ndifficult case._)\n\nBODIE. You are right. She is scrupulously honest, and if she took\nthe boards we may be sure that I said she could have them. But that\nonly adds to the mystery.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_obligingly_). Mystery?\n\nBODIE. Why this passion for collecting boards? Try her with a\nlarge board, officer. Extraordinary!\n\nPOLICEMAN (_heavily_). I don\u2019t know what you are talking about,\nsir. Are you complaining of some woman?\n\nBODIE. Now that is the question. Am I? As you are here, officer,\nthere is something I want to say to you. But I should dislike\ngetting her into trouble.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_stoutly_). No man what is a man wants to get a woman\ninto trouble unnecessary.\n\nBODIE (_much struck_). That\u2019s true! That\u2019s absolutely true, officer.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_badgered_). It\u2019s true, but there\u2019s nothing remarkable\nabout it.\n\nBODIE. Excuse me.\n\nPOLICEMAN. See here, sir, I\u2019m just an ordinary policeman.\n\nBODIE. I can\u2019t let that pass. If I may say so, you have impressed\nme most deeply. I wonder if I might ask a favour of you. Would you\nmind taking off your helmet? As it happens, I have never seen a\npoliceman without his helmet.\n\n    (_The perplexed officer puts his helmet on the table._)\n\nThank you. (_Studying the effect._) Of course I knew they took off.\nYou sit also?\n\n    (_The policeman sits._)\n\nVery interesting.\n\nPOLICEMAN. About this woman, sir\u2014\n\nBODIE. We are coming to her. Perhaps I ought to tell you my\nname\u2014Mr. Bodie. (_Indicating the Venus._) This is Mrs. Bodie. No,\nI am not married. It is merely a name given her because she is my\nideal.\n\nPOLICEMAN. You gave me a turn.\n\nBODIE. Now that I think of it, I believe the name was given to her\nby the very woman we are talking about.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_producing his note book_). To begin with, who is the\nwoman we are talking about?\n\nBODIE (_becoming more serious_). On the surface, she is just a\nlittle drudge. These studios are looked after by a housekeeper, who\nemploys this girl to do the work.\n\nPOLICEMAN. H\u2019m! Sleeps on the premises?\n\nBODIE. No; she is here from eight to six.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Place of abode?\n\nBODIE. She won\u2019t tell anyone that.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Aha! What\u2019s the party\u2019s name?\n\nBODIE. Cinderella.\n\n    (_The_ POLICEMAN _writes it down unmoved_. MR. BODIE\n    _twinkles_.)\n\nHaven\u2019t you heard that name before?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Can\u2019t say I have, sir. But I\u2019ll make inquiries at the\nYard.\n\nBODIE. It was really I who gave her that name, because she\nseemed such a poor little neglected waif. After the girl in the\nstory-book, you know.\n\nPOLICEMAN. No, sir, I don\u2019t know. In the Force we find it\nimpossible to keep up with current fiction.\n\nBODIE. She was a girl with a broom. There must have been more in\nthe story than that, but I forget the rest.\n\nPOLICEMAN. The point is, that\u2019s not the name she calls herself by.\n\nBODIE. Yes, indeed it is. I think she was called something else\nwhen she came, Miss Thing, or some such name; but she took to the\nname of Cinderella with avidity, and now she absolutely denies that\nshe ever had any other.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Parentage?\n\nBODIE (_now interested in his tale_). That\u2019s another odd thing.\nI seem to remember vaguely her telling me that her parents when\nalive were very humble persons indeed. Touch of Scotch about her, I\nshould say\u2014perhaps from some distant ancestor; but Scotch words and\nphrases still stick to the Cockney child like bits of egg-shell to\na chicken.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_writing_). Egg-shell to chicken.\n\nBODIE. I find, however, that she has lately been telling the\nhousekeeper quite a different story.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_like a counsel_). Proceed.\n\nBODIE. According to this, her people were of considerable\nposition\u2014a Baron and Baroness, in fact.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Proceed.\n\nBODIE. The only other relatives she seems to have mentioned are\ntwo sisters of unprepossessing appearance.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_cleverly_). If this story is correct, what is she doing\nhere?\n\nBODIE. I understand there is something about her father having\nmarried again, and her being badly treated. She doesn\u2019t expect this\nto last. It seems that she has reason to believe that some very\nremarkable change may take place in her circumstances at an early\ndate, at a ball for which her godmother is to get her what she\ncalls an invite. This is evidently to be a very swagger function at\nwhich something momentous is to occur, the culminating moment being\nat midnight.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_writing_). Godmother. Invite. Twelve P.M. Fishy! Tell\nme about them boards now.\n\nBODIE (_who is evidently fond of the child_). You can\u2019t think how\nwistful she is to get hold of boards. She has them on the brain.\nCarries them off herself into the unknown.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I daresay she breaks them up for firewood.\n\nBODIE. No; she makes them into large boxes.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_sagaciously_). Very likely to keep things in.\n\nBODIE. She has admitted that she keeps things in them. But what\nthings? Ask her that, and her mouth shuts like a trap.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Any suspicions?\n\n    (MR. BODIE _hesitates. It seems absurd to suspect this\n    waif\u2014and yet!_)\n\nBODIE. I\u2019m sorry to say I have. I don\u2019t know what the things are,\nbut I do know they are connected in some way with Germany.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_darkly_). Proceed.\n\nBODIE (_really troubled_). Officer, she is too curious about\nGermany.\n\nPOLICEMAN. That\u2019s bad.\n\nBODIE. She plies me with questions about it\u2014not openly\u2014very\ncunningly.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Such as\u2014?\n\nBODIE. For instance, what would be the punishment for an English\nperson caught hiding aliens in this country?\n\nPOLICEMAN. If she\u2019s up to games of that kind\u2014\n\nBODIE. Does that shed any light on the boxes, do you think?\n\nPOLICEMAN. She can\u2019t keep them shut up in boxes.\n\nBODIE. I don\u2019t know. She is extraordinarily dogged. She knows a\nnumber of German words.\n\nPOLICEMAN. That\u2019s ugly.\n\nBODIE. She asked me lately how one could send a letter to Germany\nwithout Lord Haig knowing. By the way, do you, by any chance, know\nanything against a firm of dressmakers called _Celeste et Cie._?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Celest A. C.? No, but it has a German sound.\n\nBODIE. It\u2019s French.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Might be a blind.\n\nBODIE. I think she lives at Celeste\u2019s. Now I looked up Celeste et\nCie. in the telephone book, and I find they are in Bond Street.\nImmensely fashionable.\n\nPOLICEMAN. She lives in Bond Street? London\u2019s full of romance, sir,\nto them as knows where to look for it\u2014namely, the police. Is she on\nthe premises?\n\nBODIE (_reluctantly_). Sure to be; it isn\u2019t six yet.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_in his most terrible voice_). Well, leave her to me.\n\nBODIE. You mustn\u2019t frighten her. I can\u2019t help liking her. She\u2019s so\nextraordinarily _homely_ that you can\u2019t be with her many minutes\nbefore you begin thinking of your early days. Where were you born,\nofficer?\n\nPOLICEMAN. I\u2019m from Badgery.\n\nBODIE. She\u2019ll make you think of Badgery.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_frowning_). She had best try no games on me.\n\nBODIE. She will have difficulty in answering questions; she is so\nused to asking them. I never knew a child with such an appetite for\ninformation. She doesn\u2019t search for it in books; indeed the only\nbook of mine I can remember ever seeing her read, was a volume of\nfairy tales.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_stupidly_). Well, that don\u2019t help us much. What kind of\nquestions?\n\nBODIE. Every kind. What is the Censor? Who is Lord _Times_?\u2014she has\nheard people here talking of that paper and its proprietor, and\nhas mixed them up in the quaintest way; then again\u2014when a tailor\nmeasures a gentleman\u2019s legs what does he mean when he says\u201426,\n4\u201432, 11? What are doctors up to when they tell you to say 99? In\nfinance she has an almost morbid interest in the penny.\n\nPOLICEMAN. The penny? It\u2019s plain the first thing to find out is\nwhether she\u2019s the slavey she seems to be, or a swell in disguise.\n\nBODIE. You won\u2019t find it so easy.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Excuse me, sir; we have an infall_ay_ble way at Scotland\nYard of finding out whether a woman is common or a lady.\n\nBODIE (_irritated_). An infallible way.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_firmly_). Infallayable.\n\nBODIE. I should like to know what it is.\n\nPOLICEMAN. There is nothing against my telling you. (_He settles\ndown to a masterly cross-examination._) Where, sir, does a common\nfemale keep her valuables when she carries them about on her person?\n\nBODIE. In her pocket, I suppose.\n\nPOLICEMAN. And you suppose correctly. But where does a lady keep\nthem?\n\nBODIE. In the same place, I suppose.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Then you suppose wrongly. No, sir, here. (_He taps his\nown chest, and indicates discreetly how a lady may pop something\ndown out of sight._)\n\nBODIE (_impressed_). I believe you are right, officer.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I am right\u2014it\u2019s infallayble. A lady, what with drink\nand such like misfortunes, may forget all her other refinements,\nbut she never forgets that. At the Yard it\u2019s considered as sure as\nfinger-marks.\n\nBODIE. Strange! I wonder who was the first woman to do it. It\ncouldn\u2019t have been Eve this time, officer.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_after reflecting_). I see your point. And now I want\njust to have a look at the party unbeknownst to her. Where could I\nconceal myself?\n\nBODIE. Hide?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Conceal myself.\n\nBODIE. That small door opens on to my pantry, where she washes up.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_peeping in_). It will do. Now bring her up.\n\nBODIE. It doesn\u2019t seem fair\u2014I really can\u2019t\u2014\n\nPOLICEMAN. War-time, sir.\n\n    (MR. BODIE _decides that it is patriotic to ring. The_\n    POLICEMAN _emerges from the pantry with a slavey\u2019s hat and\n    jacket_.)\n\nThese belong to the party, sir?\n\nBODIE. I forgot. She keeps them in there. (_He surveys the articles\nwith some emotion._) Gaudy feathers. And yet that hat may have done\nsome gallant things. The brave apparel of the very poor! Who knows,\nofficer, that you and I are not at this moment on rather holy\nground.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_stoutly_). I see nothing wrong with the feathers. I\nmust say, sir, I like the feathers.\n\n    (_He slips into the pantry with the hat and jacket, but\n    forgets his helmet, over which the artist hastily jams a\n    flower bowl. There were visiting cards in the bowl and\n    they are scattered on the floor._ MR. BODIE _sees them\n    not: it is his first attempt at the conspirator, and he\n    sits guiltily with a cigarette just in time to deceive_\n    CINDERELLA, _who charges into the room as from a catapult.\n    This is her usual mode of entrance, and is owing to her\n    desire to give satisfaction._)\n\n    _Our_ POLICEMAN, _as he has told us under the arches,\n    was watching her through the keyhole, but his first\n    impressions have been so coloured by subsequent events\n    that it is questionable whether they would be accepted\n    in any court of law. Is prepared to depose that to the\n    best of his recollection, they were unfavourable. Does\n    not imply by unfavourable any aspersion on her personal\n    appearance. Would accept the phrase \u2018far from striking\u2019 as\n    summing up her first appearance. Would no longer accept\n    the phrase. Had put her down as being a grown woman, but\n    not sufficiently grown. Thought her hair looked to be run\n    up her finger. Did not like this way of doing the hair.\n    Could not honestly say that she seemed even then to be\n    an ordinary slavey of the areas. She was dressed as one,\n    but was suspiciously clean. On the other hand, she had\n    the genuine hungry look. Among more disquieting features\n    noticed a sort of refinement in her voice and manner,\n    which was characteristic of the criminal classes. Knew now\n    that this was caused by the reading of fairy tales and the\n    thinking of noble thoughts. Noted speedily that she was\n    a domineering character who talked sixteen to the dozen,\n    and at such times reminded him of funny old ladies. Was\n    much struck by her eyes, which seemed to suggest that she\n    was all burning inside. This impression was strengthened\n    later when he touched her hands. Felt at once the curious\n    \u2018homeliness\u2019 of her, as commented on by_ MR. BODIE, _but\n    could swear on oath that this had not at once made him\n    think of Badgery. Could recall not the slightest symptoms\n    of love at first sight. On the contrary, listened carefully\n    to the conversation between her and_ MR. BODIE _and formed\n    a stern conclusion about her. Believed that this was all he\n    could say about his first impression._\n\nCINDERELLA (_breathlessly_). Did you rang, sir?\n\nBODIE (_ashamed_). Did I? I did\u2014but\u2014I\u2014I don\u2019t know why. If you\u2019re a\ngood servant, you ought to know why.\n\n    (_The cigarette, disgusted with him, falls from his mouth;\n    and his little servant flings up her hands to heaven._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_taking possession of him_). There you go again! Fifty\nyears have you been at it, and you can\u2019t hold a seegarette in your\nmouth _yet_! (_She sternly produces the turpentine_.)\n\nBODIE (_in sudden alarm_). I won\u2019t be brushed. I will not be\nscraped.\n\nCINDERELLA (_twisting him round_). Just look at that tobaccy ash!\nAnd I cleaned you up so pretty before luncheon.\n\nBODIE. I will _not_ be cleaned again.\n\nCINDERELLA (_in her element_). Keep still.\n\n    (_She brushes, scrapes, and turpentines him. In the glory\n    of this she tosses her head at the Venus._)\n\nI gave Mrs. Bodie a good wipe down this morning with soap and water.\n\nBODIE (_indignant_). That is a little too much. You know quite well\nI allow no one to touch her.\n\n    (CINDERELLA _leaves him and gazes in irritation at the\n    statue_.)\n\nCINDERELLA. What is it about the woman?\n\nBODIE (_in his heat forgetting the policeman_). She is the glory of\nglories.\n\nCINDERELLA (_who would be willowy if she were long enough_). She\u2019s\nthick.\n\nBODIE. Her measurements are perfection. All women long to be like\nher, but none ever can be.\n\nCINDERELLA (_insisting_). I suppose that\u2019s the reason she has that\nsnigger on her face.\n\nBODIE. That is perhaps the smile of motherhood. Some people think\nthere was once a baby in her arms.\n\nCINDERELLA (_with a new interest in Venus_). Her own?\n\nBODIE. I suppose so.\n\nCINDERELLA. A married woman then?\n\nBODIE (_nonplussed_). Don\u2019t ask trivial questions.\n\nCINDERELLA (_generously_). It was clever of you to make her.\n\nBODIE. I didn\u2019t make her. I was\u2014forestalled. Some other artist\nchappie did it. (_He likes his little maid again._) She was dug\nup, Cinderella, after lying hidden in the ground for more than a\nthousand years.\n\nCINDERELLA. And the baby gone?\n\nBODIE (_snapping_). Yes.\n\nCINDERELLA. If I had lost my baby I wouldn\u2019t have been found with\nthat pleased look on my face, not in a thousand years.\n\nBODIE. Her arms were broken, you see, so she had to drop the baby\u2014\n\nCINDERELLA. She could have up with her knee and catched it\u2014\n\nBODIE (_excitedly_). By heavens, that may just be what she is\ndoing. (_He contemplates a letter to the \u2018Times.\u2019_)\n\nCINDERELLA (_little aware that she may have solved the question of\nthe ages_). Beauty\u2019s a grand thing.\n\nBODIE. It is.\n\nCINDERELLA. I warrant _she_ led them a pretty dance in her day.\n\nBODIE. Men?\n\nCINDERELLA. Umpha! (_wistfully_). It must be fine to have men so\nmad about you that they go off their feed and roar. (_She turns\nwith a sigh to the dusting of the penguin._) What did you say this\nis?\n\nBODIE (_ignorant of what he is letting himself in for_). A bishop.\n\nCINDERELLA (_nearly choking_). The sort that marries swell couples?\n\nBODIE. Yes.\n\nCINDERELLA (_huskily, as if it made all the difference to her_). I\nnever thought of that.\n\nBODIE (_kindly_). Why should you, you queer little waif. Do you\nknow why I call you Cinderella?\n\nCINDERELLA. Fine, I know.\n\nBODIE. Why is it?\n\nCINDERELLA (_with shy happiness_). It\u2019s because I have such pretty\nfeet.\n\nBODIE. You dear little innocent. (_He thinks shame of his\nsuspicions. He is planning how to get rid of the man in the pantry\nwhen she brings him back to hard facts with a bump._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_in a whisper_). Mr. Bodie, if you wanted to get\ninto Buckingham Palace on the dodge, how would you slip by the\npoliceman? (_she wrings her hands_). The police is everywhere in\nwar-time.\n\nBODIE (_conscious how near one of them is_). They are\u2014be careful,\nCinderella.\n\nCINDERELLA. I am\u2014oh, I am! If you knew the precautions I\u2019m taking\u2014\n\nBODIE (_miserable_). Sh!\n\nCINDERELLA (_now in a quiver_). Mr. Bodie, you haven\u2019t by any\nchance got an invite for to-night, have you?\n\nBODIE. What for?\n\nCINDERELLA (_as still as the Venus_). For\u2014for a ball.\n\nBODIE. There are no balls in war-time.\n\nCINDERELLA (_dogged_). Just the one. Mr. Bodie, did you ever see\nthe King?\n\nBODIE. The King? Several times.\n\nCINDERELLA (_as white as the Venus_). Was the Prince of Wales with\nhim?\n\nBODIE. Once.\n\nCINDERELLA. What\u2019s he like?\n\nBODIE. Splendid! Quite young, you know. He\u2019s not married.\n\nCINDERELLA (_with awful intensity_). No, not yet.\n\nBODIE. I suppose he is very difficult to satisfy.\n\nCINDERELLA (_knitting her lips_). He has never seen the feet that\npleased him.\n\nBODIE. Cinderella, your pulse is galloping. You frighten me. What\npossesses you?\n\nCINDERELLA (_after hesitating_). There is something I want to tell\nyou. Maybe I\u2019ll not be coming back after to-night. She has paid me\nup to to-night.\n\nBODIE. Is she sending you away?\n\nCINDERELLA. No. I\u2019ve sort of given notice.\n\nBODIE (_disappointed_). You\u2019ve got another place?\n\n    (_She shuts her mouth like a box._)\n\nHas it anything to do with the Godmother business?\n\n    (_Her mouth remains closed. He barks at her._)\n\nDon\u2019t then. (_He reconsiders her._) I like you, you know.\n\nCINDERELLA (_gleaming_). It\u2019s fine to be liked.\n\nBODIE. Have you a lonely life?\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s kind of lonely.\n\nBODIE. You won\u2019t tell me about your home?\n\n    (_She shakes her head._)\n\nIs there any nice person to look after you in the sort of way in\nwhich you look after me?\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019m all alone. There\u2019s just me and my feet.\n\nBODIE. If you go I\u2019ll miss you. We\u2019ve had some good times here,\nCinderella, haven\u2019t we?\n\nCINDERELLA (_rapturously_). We have! You mind that chop you gave\nme? Hey, hey, hey! (_considering it judicially_). That was the most\ncharming chop I ever saw. And many is the lick of soup you\u2019ve given\nme when you thought I looked down-like. Do you mind the chicken\nthat was too high for you? You give me the whole chicken. That was\na day.\n\nBODIE. I never meant you to eat it.\n\nCINDERELLA. I didn\u2019t eat it all myself. I shared it with them.\n\nBODIE (_inquisitively_). With them? With whom?\n\n    (_Her mouth shuts promptly, and he sulks. She picks up the\n    visiting cards that litter the floor._)\n\nCINDERELLA. What a spill! If you\u2019re not messing you\u2019re spilling.\nWhere\u2019s the bowl?\n\n    (_She lifts the bowl and discovers the helmet. She is\n    appalled._)\n\nBODIE (_in an agony of remorse pointing to the door_). Cinderella,\nquick!\n\n    (_But our_ POLICEMAN _has emerged and barred the way_.)\n\nPOLICEMAN (_indicating that it is_ MR. BODIE _who must go_). If\n_you_ please, sir.\n\nBODIE. I won\u2019t! Don\u2019t you dare to frighten her.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_settling the matter with the palm of his hand_). That\nwill do. If I need you I\u2019ll call you.\n\nBODIE (_flinching_). Cinderella, it\u2019s\u2014it\u2019s just a form. I won\u2019t be\nfar away.\n\n    (_He departs reluctantly._)\n\nPOLICEMAN (_sternly_). Stand up.\n\nCINDERELLA (_a quaking figure, who has never sat down_). I\u2019m\nstanding up.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Now, no sauce.\n\n    (_He produces his note book. He is about to make a powerful\n    beginning when he finds her eyes regarding the middle of\n    his person._)\n\nNow then, what are you staring at?\n\nCINDERELLA. (_hotly_). That\u2019s a poor way to polish a belt. If I was\na officer I would think shame of having my belt in that condition.\n\nPOLICEMAN. (_undoubtedly affected by her homeliness though\nunconscious of it_). It\u2019s easy to speak; it\u2019s a miserable polish I\nadmit, but mind you, I\u2019m pretty done when my job\u2019s over; and I have\nthe polishing to do myself.\n\nCINDERELLA. You have no woman person?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Not me.\n\nCINDERELLA (_with passionate arms_). If I had that belt for half an\nhour!\n\nPOLICEMAN. What would you use?\n\nCINDERELLA. Spit.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Spit? That\u2019s like what my mother would have said. That\nwas in Badgery, where I was born. When I was a boy at Badgery\u2014(_He\nstops short. She has reminded him of Badgery!_)\n\nCINDERELLA. What\u2019s wrong?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_heavily_). How did you manage that about Badgery?\n\nCINDERELLA. What?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Take care, prisoner.\n\n    (_The word makes her shudder. He sits, prepared to take\n    notes._)\n\nName?\n\nCINDERELLA. Cinderella.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Take care, Thing. Occupation, if any?\n\nCINDERELLA (_with some pride_). Tempary help.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Last place?\n\nCINDERELLA. 3 Robert Street.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Scotch?\n\n    (_Her mouth shuts._)\n\nAh, they\u2019ll never admit that. Reason for leaving?\n\nCINDERELLA. I had to go when the war broke out.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Why dismissed?\n\nCINDERELLA (_forlorn_). They said I was a luxury.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_getting ready to pounce_). Now be cautious. How do you\nspend your evenings after you leave this building?\n\n    (_Her mouth shuts._)\n\nHave you another and secret occupation?\n\n    (_She blanches._)\n\nHas it to do with boxes? What do you keep in those boxes? Where\nis it that these goings-on is going on? If you won\u2019t tell me, I\u2019m\nwilling to tell you. It\u2019s at A. C. Celeste\u2019s.... In Bond Street, W.\n\n    (_He has levelled his finger at her, but it is a pistol\n    that does not go off. To his chagrin she looks relieved. He\n    tries hammer blows._)\n\nAre you living in guilty splendour? How do you come to know German\nwords? How many German words do you think _I_ know? Just one,\n_espionage_. What\u2019s the German for \u2018six months hard\u2019?\n\n    (_She is now crumpled, and here he would do well to pause\n    and stride up and down the room. But he cannot leave well\n    alone._)\n\nWhat\u2019s this nonsense about your feet?\n\nCINDERELLA (_plucking up courage_). It\u2019s not nonsense.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I see nothing particular about your feet.\n\nCINDERELLA. Then I\u2019m sorry for you.\n\nPOLICEMAN. What is it?\n\nCINDERELLA (_softly as if it were a line from the Bible_). Their\nexquisite smallness and perfect shape.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_with a friendly glance at the Venus_). For my part I\u2019m\npartial to big women with their noses in the air.\n\nCINDERELLA (_stung_). So is everybody (_pathetically_). I\u2019ve tried.\nBut it\u2019s none so easy, with never no butcher\u2019s meat in the house.\nYou\u2019ll see where the su-perb shoulders and the haughty manners come\nfrom if you look in shop windows and see the whole of a cow turned\ninside out and \u2018Delicious\u2019 printed on it.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_always just_). There\u2019s something in that.\n\nCINDERELLA (_swelling_). But it doesn\u2019t matter how fine the rest of\nyou is if you doesn\u2019t have small feet.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I never gave feet a thought.\n\nCINDERELLA. The swells think of nothing else. (_Exploding._) Wait\ntill you are at the Ball. Many a haughty beauty with superb uppers\nwill come sailing in\u2014as sure of the prize as if \u2018Delicious\u2019 was\npinned on her\u2014and then forward steps the Lord Mayor, and, _utterly\ndisregarding her uppers_, he points to the bottom of her skirt, and\nhe says \u2018Lift!\u2019 and she _has_ to lift, and there\u2019s a dead silence,\nand nothing to be heard except the Prince crying \u2018Throw her out!\u2019\n\nPOLICEMAN (_somewhat staggered by her knowledge of the high life_).\nWhat\u2019s all this about a ball?\n\n    (CINDERELLA _sees she has said too much and her mouth shuts_.)\n\nWas you ever at a ball?\n\nCINDERELLA (_with dignity_). At any rate I\u2019ve been at the Horse\nShow.\n\nPOLICEMAN. A ball\u2019s not like a Horse Show.\n\nCINDERELLA. You\u2019ll see.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_reverting to business_). It all comes to this, are you\ngenteel, or common clay?\n\nCINDERELLA (_pertly_). I leaves that to you.\n\nPOLICEMAN. You couldn\u2019t leave it in safer hands. I want a witness\nto this.\n\nCINDERELLA (_startled_). A witness! What are you to do?\n\n    (_With terrible self-confidence he has already opened the\n    door and beckoned._ MR. BODIE _comes in anxiously_.)\n\nPOLICEMAN. Take note, sir. (_With the affable manner of a\nconjuror._) We are now about to try a little experiment, the object\nbeing to discover whether this party is genteel or common clay.\n\nCINDERELLA. Oh, Mr. Bodie, what is it?\n\nBODIE (_remembering what he has been told of the Scotland Yard\ntest_). I don\u2019t like.... I won\u2019t have it.\n\nPOLICEMAN. It gives her the chance of proving once and for all\nwhether she\u2019s of gentle blood.\n\nCINDERELLA (_eagerly_). Does it?\n\nBODIE. I must forbid....\n\nCINDERELLA (_with dreadful resolution_). I\u2019m ready. I wants to know\nmyself.\n\nPOLICEMAN. _Ve_\u2014ry well. Now then, I heard you say that the old\nparty downstairs had paid you your wages to-day.\n\nCINDERELLA. I see nothing you can prove by that. It was a\nhalf-week\u2019s wages\u20141s. 7d. Of course I could see my way clearer if\nit had been 1s. 9d.\n\nPOLICEMAN. That\u2019s neither here nor there. We\u2019ll proceed. Now, very\nlikely you wrapped the money up in a screw of paper. Did you?\n\n    (_She is afraid of giving herself away._)\n\nThinking won\u2019t help you.\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s _my_ money.\n\nBODIE. Nobody wants your money, Cinderella.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Answer me. Did you?\n\nCINDERELLA. Yes.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Say \u2018I did.\u2019\n\nCINDERELLA. I did.\n\nPOLICEMAN. And possibly for the sake of greater security you tied a\nstring round it\u2014did you?\n\nCINDERELLA. I did.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_after a glance at_ MR. BODIE _to indicate that\nthe supreme moment has come_). You then deposited the little\nparcel\u2014where?\n\nBODIE (_in an agony_). Cinderella, be careful!\n\n    (_She is so dreading to do the wrong thing that she can\n    only stare. Finally, alas, she produces the fatal packet\n    from her pocket. Quiet triumph of our policeman._)\n\nBODIE. My poor child!\n\nCINDERELLA (_not realising yet that she has given herself away_).\nWhat is it? Go on.\n\nPOLICEMAN. That\u2019ll do. You can stand down.\n\nCINDERELLA. You\u2019ve found out?\n\nPOLICEMAN. I have.\n\nCINDERELLA (_breathless_). And what am I?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_kindly_). I\u2019m sorry.\n\nCINDERELLA. Am I\u2014common clay?\n\n    (_They look considerately at the floor; she bursts into\n    tears and runs into the pantry, shutting the door._)\n\nPOLICEMAN (_with melancholy satisfaction_). It\u2019s infall_ay_ble.\n\nBODIE. At any rate it shows that there\u2019s nothing against her.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_taking him further from the pantry door, in a low\nvoice_). I dunno. There\u2019s some queer things. Where does she go\nwhen she leaves this house? What about that ball?\u2014and her German\nconnection?\u2014and them boards she makes into boxes\u2014and A. C. Celeste?\nWell, I\u2019ll find out.\n\nBODIE (_miserably_). What are you going to do?\n\nPOLICEMAN. To track her when she leaves here. I may have to adopt a\ndisguise. I\u2019m a masterpiece at that.\n\nBODIE. Yes, but\u2014\n\nPOLICEMAN (_stamping about the floor with the exaggerated tread of\nthe Law_). I\u2019ll tell you the rest outside. I must make her think\nthat my suspicions are\u2014allayed. (_He goes cunningly to the pantry\ndoor and speaks in a loud voice._) Well, sir, that satisfies me\nthat she\u2019s not the party I was in search of, and so, with your\npermission, I\u2019ll bid you good evening. What, you\u2019re going out\nyourself? Then I\u2019ll be very happy to walk part of the way with you.\n\n    (_Nodding and winking, he goes off with heavy steps, taking\n    with him the reluctant_ MR. BODIE, _who like one mesmerised\n    also departs stamping_.\n\n    MISS THING _peeps out to make sure that they are gone.\n    She is wearing her hat and jacket, which have restored\n    her self-respect. The tears have been disposed of with\n    a lick of the palm. She is again a valiant soul who has\n    had too many brushes with the police not to be able to\n    face another with a tight lip. She is going, but she\n    is not going without her wooden board; law or no law\n    she cannot do without wooden boards. She gets it from a\n    corner where it has been artfully concealed. An imprudent\n    glance at the Venus again dispirits her. With a tape she\n    takes the Beauty\u2019s measurements and then her own, with\n    depressing results. The Gods at last pity her, and advise\n    an examination of her rival\u2019s foot. Excursions, alarms,\n    transport. She compares feet and is glorified. She slips\n    off her shoe and challenges Venus to put it on. Then, with\n    a derisive waggle of her foot at the shamed goddess, the\n    little enigma departs on her suspicious business, little\n    witting that a masterpiece of a constable is on her track._)\n\n\n\n\nII\n\n\n_It is later in the evening of the same day, and this is such a\nstreet as harbours London\u2019s poor. The windows are so close to us\nthat we could tap on the only one which shows a light. It is on the\nground floor, and makes a gallant attempt to shroud this light with\narticles of apparel suspended within. Seen as shadows through the\nblind, these are somehow very like Miss Thing, and almost suggest\nthat she has been hanging herself in several places in one of her\nbouts of energy. The street is in darkness, save for the meagre\nglow from a street lamp, whose glass is painted red in obedience to\nwar regulations. It is winter time, and there is a sprinkling of\nsnow on the ground._\n\n_Our_ POLICEMAN _appears in the street, not perhaps for the first\ntime this evening, and flashes his lantern on the suspect\u2019s window,\nwhose signboard (boards again!) we now see bears this odd device_,\n\n    _Celeste et Cie_. \u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014 _The Penny Friend._\n\n_Not perhaps for the first time this evening he scratches his\nhead at it. Then he pounds off in pursuit of some client who\nhas just emerged with a pennyworth. We may imagine the two of\nthem in conversation in the next street, the law putting leading\nquestions. Meanwhile the \u2018fourth\u2019 wall of the establishment of\nCeleste dissolves, but otherwise the street is as it was, and we\nare now in the position of privileged persons looking in at her\nwindow. It is a tiny room in which you could just swing a cat, and\nhere_ CINDERELLA _swings cats all and every evening. The chief\npieces of furniture are a table and a bench, both of which have a\nsuspicious appearance of having been made out of boards by some\nhandy character. There is a penny in the slot fireplace which has\nevidently been lately fed, there is a piece of carpet that has been\nbeaten into nothingness, but is still a carpet, there is a hearth\nrug of brilliant rags that is probably gratified when your toes\ncatch in it and you are hurled against the wall. Two pictures\u2014one\nof them partly framed\u2014strike a patriotic note, but they may be\nthere purposely to deceive. The room is lit by a lamp, and at first\nsight presents no sinister aspect unless it comes from four boxes\nnailed against the walls some five or six feet from the floor. In\nappearance they are not dissimilar to large grocery boxes, but it\nis disquieting to note that one of them has been mended with the\nboard we saw lately in_ MR. BODIE\u2019S _studio. When our_ POLICEMAN\n_comes, as come we may be sure he will, the test of his acumen will\nbe his box action._\n\n_The persons in the room at present have either no acumen or\nare familiar with the boxes. There are four of them, besides_\nCINDERELLA, _whom we catch in the act of adding to her means of\nlivelihood. Celeste et Cie., a name that has caught her delicate\nfancy while she dashed through fashionable quarters, is the Penny\nFriend because here everything is dispensed for that romantic coin.\nIt is evident that the fame of the emporium has spread. Three\nwould be customers sit on the bench awaiting their turn listlessly\nand as genteelly unconscious of each other as society in a\ndentist\u2019s dining-room, while in the centre is_ CINDERELLA _fitting\nan elderly gentleman with a new coat. There are pins in her mouth\nand white threads in the coat, suggesting that this is not her\nfirst struggle with it, and one of the difficulties with which she\nhas to contend is that it has already evidently been the coat of a\nlarger man_. CINDERELLA _is far too astute a performer to let it be\nseen that she has difficulties, however. She twists and twirls her\npatron with careless aptitude, kneads him if need be, and has him\nin a condition of pulp while she mutters for her own encouragement\nand his intimidation the cryptic remarks employed by tailors, as\nto the exact meaning of which she has already probed_ MR. BODIE.\n\n\nCINDERELLA (_wandering over her client with a tape_). 35\u201414. (_She\nconsults a paper on the table._) Yes, it\u2019s 35\u201414.\n\n    (_She pulls him out, contracts him and takes his elbows\n    measure._)\n\n28\u20147; 41\u201412; 15\u201419. (_There is something wrong, and she has to\njustify her handiwork._) You was longer when you came on Monday.\n\nGENTLEMAN (_very moved by the importance of the occasion_). Don\u2019t\nbe saying that, Missy.\n\nCINDERELLA (_pinning up the tails of his coat_). Keep still.\n\nGENTLEMAN (_with unexpected spirit_). I warns you, Missy, I won\u2019t\nhave it cut.\n\nCINDERELLA (_an artist_). I\u2019ll give you the bits.\n\nGENTLEMAN. I prefers to wear them.\n\n    (_She compares the coat with the picture of an elegant dummy._)\n\nWere you going to make me like that picture?\n\nCINDERELLA. I had just set my heart on copying this one. It\u2019s the\nVolupty.\n\nGENTLEMAN (_faint-hearted_). I\u2019m thinkin\u2019 I couldn\u2019t stand like\nthat man.\n\nCINDERELLA (_eagerly_). Fine you could\u2014with just a little practice.\nI\u2019ll let you see the effect.\n\n    (_She bends one of his knees, extends an arm and curves the\n    other till he looks like a graceful teapot. She puts his\n    stick in one hand and his hat in the other, and he is now\n    coquettishly saluting a lady._)\n\nGENTLEMAN (_carried away as he looks at himself in a glass_). By\nGosh! Cut away, Missy!\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019ll need one more try-on. (_Suddenly._) That\u2019s to say\nif I\u2019m here.\n\nGENTLEMAN (_little understanding the poignancy of the remark_). If\nit would be convenient to you to have the penny now\u2014\n\nCINDERELLA. No, not till I\u2019ve earned it. It\u2019s my rule. Good night\nto you, Mr. Jennings.\n\nGENTLEMAN. Good night, Missy.\n\n    (_We see him go out by the door and disappear up the street._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_sharply_). Next.\n\n    (_An old woman comes to the table and_ CINDERELLA _politely\n    pretends not to have seen her sitting there_.)\n\nIt\u2019s Mrs. Maloney!\n\nMRS. M. Cinders, I have a pain. It\u2019s like a jag of a needle down my\nside.\n\nCINDERELLA (_with a sinking, for she is secretly afraid of medical\ncases_). Wait till I pop the therm-mo-mometer in. It\u2019s a real one.\n(_She says this with legitimate pride. She removes the instrument\nfrom_ MRS. MALONEY\u2019S _mouth after a prudent interval, and is not\ncertain what to do next._)\n\nTake a deep breath.... Again.... Say 99. (_Her ear is against the\npatient\u2019s chest._)\n\nMRS. M. 99.\n\nCINDERELLA (_at a venture_). Oho!\n\nMRS. M. It ain\u2019t there the pain is\u2014it\u2019s down my side.\n\nCINDERELLA (_firmly_). We never say 99 down there.\n\nMRS. M. What\u2019s wrong wi\u2019 me?\n\nCINDERELLA (_candidly_). I don\u2019t want for to pretend, Mrs. Maloney,\nthat the 99 is any guidance to me. I can _not_ find out what it\u2019s\nfor. I would make so bold as to call your complaint muscular\nrheumatics if the pain came when you coughed. But you have no cough.\n\nMRS. M. (_coming to close quarters_). No, but he has\u2014my old man.\nIt\u2019s him that has the pains, not me.\n\nCINDERELLA (_hurt_). What for did you pretend it was you?\n\nMRS. M. That was his idea. He was feared you might stop his smoking.\n\nCINDERELLA. And so I will.\n\nMRS. M. What\u2019s the treatment?\n\nCINDERELLA (_writing after consideration on a piece of paper_). One\nof them mustard leaves.\n\nMRS. M. (_taking the paper_). Is there no medicine?\n\nCINDERELLA (_faltering_). I\u2019m a little feared about medicine, Mrs.\nMaloney.\n\nMRS. M. He\u2019ll be a kind of low-spirited if there\u2019s not a lick of\nmedicine.\n\nCINDERELLA. Have you any in the house?\n\nMRS. M. There\u2019s what was left over of the powders my lodger had\nwhen the kettle fell on his foot.\n\nCINDERELLA. You could give him one of them when the cough is\ntroublesome. Good night, Mrs. Maloney.\n\nMRS. M. Thank you kindly. (_She puts a penny on the table._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_with polite surprise_). What\u2019s that?\n\nMRS. M. It\u2019s the penny.\n\nCINDERELLA. So it is! Good night, Mrs. Maloney.\n\nMRS. M. Good night, Cinders.\n\n    (_She departs. The penny falls into_ CINDERELLA\u2019S _box with\n    a pleasant clink_.)\n\nCINDERELLA. Next.\n\n    (_A woman of 35 comes forward. She is dejected, thin-lipped,\n    and unlovable._)\n\nMARION (_tossing her head_). You\u2019re surprised to see _me_, I\ndaresay.\n\nCINDERELLA (_guardedly_). I haven\u2019t the pleasure of knowing you.\n\nMARION (_glancing at the remaining occupant of the bench_). Is that\nman sleeping? Who is he? I don\u2019t know him.\n\nCINDERELLA. He\u2019s sleeping. What can I do for you?\n\nMARION (_harshly_). Nothing, I daresay. I\u2019m at Catullo\u2019s Buildings.\nNow they\u2019re turning me out. They say I\u2019m not respectable.\n\nCINDERELLA (_enlightened_). You\u2019re\u2014that woman?\n\nMARION (_defiantly_). That\u2019s me.\n\nCINDERELLA (_shrinking_). I don\u2019t think there\u2019s nothing I could do\nfor you.\n\nMARION (_rather appealing_). Maybe there is. I see you\u2019ve heard my\nstory. They say there\u2019s a man comes to see me at times though he\nhas a wife in Hoxton.\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019ve heard.\n\nMARION. So I\u2019m being turned out.\n\nCINDERELLA. I don\u2019t think it\u2019s a case for me.\n\nMARION. Yes, it is.\n\nCINDERELLA. Are you terrible fond of him?\n\nMARION. Fond of him! Damn him!\n\n    (CINDERELLA _shrinks_. MARION _makes sure that the man is\n    asleep_.)\n\nCinders, they\u2019ve got the story wrong; it\u2019s me as is his wife; I was\nmarried to him in a church. He met that woman long after and took\nup with her.\n\nCINDERELLA. What! Then why do you not tell the truth?\n\nMARION. It\u2019s my pride keeps me from telling. I would rather be\nthought to be the wrong \u2019un he likes than the wife the law makes\nhim help.\n\nCINDERELLA. Is that pride?\n\nMARION. It\u2019s all the pride that\u2019s left to me.\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019m awful sorry for you, but I can\u2019t think of no advice\nto give you.\n\nMARION. It\u2019s not advice I want.\n\nCINDERELLA. What is it then?\n\nMARION. It\u2019s pity. I fling back all the gutter words they fling at\nme, but my heart, Cinders, is wet at times. It\u2019s wet for one to\npity me.\n\nCINDERELLA. I pity you.\n\nMARION. You\u2019ll tell nobody?\n\nCINDERELLA. No.\n\nMARION. Can I come in now and again at a time?\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019ll be glad to see you\u2014if I\u2019m here.\n\nMARION. I\u2019ll be slipping away now; he\u2019s waking up. (_She puts down\nher penny._)\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019m not doing it for no penny.\n\nMARION. You\u2019ve got to take it. That\u2019s my pride. But\u2014I wish you\nwell, Cinders.\n\nCINDERELLA. I like you. I wish you would wish me luck. Say \u2018Good\nluck to you to-night, Cinderella.\u2019\n\nMARION. Why to-night?\n\n    (_The little waif, so practical until now, is afire inside\n    again. She needs a confidant almost as much as_ MARION.)\n\nCINDERELLA (_hastily_). You see\u2014\n\n    (_The man sits up._)\n\nMAN. Good evening, Missis.\n\nMARION. Good luck to you to-night, Cinderella.\n\n    (_She goes._)\n\n    (_The man slips forward and lifts the penny._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_returning to earth sharply_). Put that down.\n\nMAN. I was only looking at the newness of it. I was just admiring\nthe design.\n\n    (_The newness and the design both disappear into the box.\n    A bearded person wearing the overalls of a sea-faring man\n    lurches down the street and enters the emporium. Have we\n    seen him before? Who can this hairy monster be?_)\n\nPOLICEMAN (_in an incredibly gruff voice_). I want a pennyworth.\n\nCINDERELLA (_unsuspecting_). Sit down. (_She surveys the coster._)\nIt\u2019s you that belongs to the shirt, isn\u2019t it?\n\nMAN. Yes; is\u2019t ready?\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s ready.\n\n    (_It proves to be not a shirt, but a \u2018front\u2019 of linen,\n    very stiff and starched. The laundress cautiously retains\n    possession of it._)\n\nThe charge is a penny.\n\nMAN. On delivery.\n\nCINDERELLA. Before delivery.\n\nMAN. Surely you can trust me.\n\nCINDERELLA. You\u2019ve tried that on before, my man. Never again! All\nin this street knows my rule,\u2014Trust in the Lord\u2014every other person,\ncash.\n\n    (_A penny and a \u2018shirt\u2019 pass between them and he departs._)\n\n    (CINDERELLA _turns her attention to the newcomer_.)\n\nWhat\u2019s your pleasure?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Shave, please.\n\nCINDERELLA (_quivering before his beard_). Shave! I shaves in an\nordinary way, but I don\u2019t know as I could tackle that.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I thought you was a barber.\n\nCINDERELLA (_stung_). I\u2019ll get the lather.\n\n    (_She goes doubtfully into what she calls her bedroom._\n\n    _He seizes this opportunity to survey the room. A\n    remarkable man this, his attention is at once riveted on\n    the boxes, but before he can step on a chair and take a\n    peep the barber returns with the implements of her calling.\n    He reaches his chair in time not to be caught by her. She\n    brings in a bowl of soap and water and a towel, which she\n    puts round him in the correct manner._)\n\nCINDERELLA. You\u2019re thin on the top.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_in his winding sheet_). I\u2019ve all run to beard.\n\nCINDERELLA (_the ever ready_). I have a ointment for the hair; it\nis my own invention. The price is a penny.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_gruffly_). Beard, please.\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019ve got some voice drops.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Beard, please.\n\nCINDERELLA (_as she prepares the lather_). Is the streets quiet?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_cunningly_). Hereabouts they are; but there\u2019s great\ndoings in the fashionable quarters. A ball, I\u2019m told.\n\nCINDERELLA (_gasping_). You didn\u2019t see no peculiar person about in\nthis street?\n\nPOLICEMAN. How peculiar?\n\nCINDERELLA. Like a\u2014a flunkey?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Did I now\u2014or did I not?\n\nCINDERELLA (_eagerly_). He would be carrying an invite maybe; it\u2019s\na big card.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I can\u2019t say I saw him.\n\n    (_Here an astonishing thing happens. The head of a child\n    rises from one of the boxes. She is unseen by either of the\n    mortals._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_considering the beard_). How do I start with the like\nof this?\n\nPOLICEMAN. First you saws....\n\n    (_She attempts to saw. The beard comes off in her hand._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_recognising his face_). You!\n\nPOLICEMAN (_stepping triumphantly out of his disguise_). Me!\n\n    (_As sometimes happens, however, the one who means to\n    give the surprise gets a greater. At sight of his dreaded\n    uniform the child screams, whereat two other children in\n    other boxes bob up and scream also. It is some time before\n    the policeman can speak._)\n\nSo that\u2019s what the boxes was for!\n\nCINDERELLA (_feebly_). Yes.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_portentously_). Who and what are these phenomenons?\n\nCINDERELLA (_protectingly_). Don\u2019t be frightened, children. Down!\n\n    (_They disappear obediently._)\n\nThere\u2019s no wrong in it. They\u2019re just me trying to do my bit. It\u2019s\nsaid all should do their bit in war-time. It was into a hospital\nI wanted to go to nurse the wounded soldiers. I offered myself\nat every hospital door, but none would have me, so this was all I\ncould do.\n\nPOLICEMAN. You\u2019re taking care of them?\n\n    (_She nods._)\n\nSounds all right. Neighbours\u2019 children?\n\nCINDERELLA. The brown box is. She\u2019s half of an orphan, her father\u2019s\na bluejacket, so, of course, I said I would.\n\nPOLICEMAN. You need say no more. I pass little bluejacket.\n\nCINDERELLA. Those other two is allies. She\u2019s French\u2014and her\u2019s a\nBelgy\u2014(_calls_). Marie-Therese.\n\n    (_The French child sits up._)\n\nSpeak your language to the gentleman, Marie-Therese.\n\nMARIE. Bon soir, monsieur\u2014comment portez-vous? Je t\u2019aime. (_She\ncurtseys charmingly to him from the box._)\n\nPOLICEMAN. Well, I\u2019m \u2014\u2014d!\n\nCINDERELLA. Delphine.\n\n    (_The Belgian looks up._)\n\nMake votre bow.\n\nGladys!\n\n    (_The English child bobs up._)\n\nA friend, Gladys.\n\n    (GLADYS _and the policeman grin to each other_.)\n\nGLADYS. What cheer!\n\nCINDERELLA. Monsieur is a Britain\u2019s defender.\n\nMARIE. Oh, la, la! Parlez-vous fran\u00e7ais, monsieur? Non! I blow you\ntwo kisses, monsieur\u2014the one is to you (_kisses hand_) to keep, the\nother you will give\u2014(_kisses hand_) to Kitch.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_writing_). Sends kiss to Lord Kitchener.\n\nCINDERELLA. She\u2019s the one that does most of the talking.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_who is getting friendly_). I suppose that other box is\nan empty.\n\n    (CINDERELLA\u2019S _mouth closes_.)\n\nIs that box empty?\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s not exactly empty.\n\nPOLICEMAN. What\u2019s inside?\n\nCINDERELLA. She\u2019s the littlest.\n\n    (_The children exchange glances and she is severe._)\n\nCouchy.\n\n    (_They disappear._)\n\nPOLICEMAN. An ally?\n\nCINDERELLA. She\u2019s\u2014she\u2019s\u2014Swiss.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_lowering_). Now then!\n\nCINDERELLA. She\u2019s not exactly Swiss. You can guess now what she is.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_grave_). This puts me in a very difficult position.\n\nCINDERELLA (_beginning to cry_). Nobody would take her. She was\nleft over. I tried not to take her. I\u2019m a patriot, I am. But there\nshe was\u2014left over\u2014and her so terrible little\u2014I couldn\u2019t help taking\nher.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I dunno. (_Quite unfairly._) If her folk had been in\nyour place and you in hers, they would have shown neither mercy nor\npity for you.\n\nCINDERELLA (_stoutly_). That makes no difference.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_Was this the great moment?_). I think there\u2019s something\nuncommon about you.\n\nCINDERELLA (_pleased_). About _me_?\n\nPOLICEMAN. I suppose she\u2019s sleeping.\n\nCINDERELLA. Not her!\n\nPOLICEMAN. What\u2019s she doing?\n\nCINDERELLA. She\u2019s strafing!\n\nPOLICEMAN. Who\u2019s she strafing?\n\nCINDERELLA. Very likely you. She misses nobody. You see I\u2019ve put\nsome barb-wire round her box.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I see now.\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s not really barb-wire. It\u2019s worsted. I was feared\nthe wire would hurt her. But it just makes a difference.\n\nPOLICEMAN. How do the others get on with her?\n\nCINDERELLA. I makes them get on with her. Of course there\u2019s tongues\nout, and little things like that.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Were the foreign children shy of you at first?\n\nCINDERELLA. Not as soon as they heard my name. \u2018Oh, are you\nCinderella?\u2019 they said, in their various languages\u2014and \u2018when\u2019s the\nball?\u2019 they said.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Somebody must have telled them about you.\n\nCINDERELLA (_happy_). Not here. They had heard about me in their\nforeign lands. Everybody knows Cinderella, it\u2019s fine. Even\nher\u2014(_indicating German_) the moment I mentioned my name\u2014\u2018Where\u2019s\nyour ugly sisters?\u2019 says she, looking round.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Sisters? It\u2019s new to me, your having sisters. (_He\nproduces his note book._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_uneasily_). It\u2019s kind of staggering to me, too. I\nhaven\u2019t been able to manage them yet, but they\u2019ll be at the ball.\n\nPOLICEMAN. It\u2019s queer.\n\nCINDERELLA. It _is_ queer.\n\nPOLICEMAN. (_sitting down with her_). How do you know this ball\u2019s\nto-night?\n\nCINDERELLA. It had to be some night. You see, after I closes my\nbusiness I have chats with the children about things, and naturally\nit\u2019s mostly about the ball. I put it off as long as I could, but it\nhad to be some night\u2014and this is the night.\n\nPOLICEMAN. You mean it\u2019s make-believe?\n\nCINDERELLA (_almost fiercely_). None of that!\n\nPOLICEMAN (_shaking his head_). I don\u2019t like it.\n\nCINDERELLA (_shining_). You wouldn\u2019t say that if you heard the\nblasts on the trumpet and loud roars of \u2018Make way for the Lady\nCinderella!\u2019\n\n    (_Three heads pop up again._)\n\nPOLICEMAN. Lady?\n\nCINDERELLA (_in a tremble of exultation_). That\u2019s me. That\u2019s what\nyou\u2019re called at royal balls. Then loud huzzas is heard outside\nfrom the excited popu-lace, for by this time the fame of my beauty\nhas spread like wild-fire through the streets, and folks is hanging\nout at windows and climbing lamp-posts to catch a sight of me.\n\n    (_Delight of the children._)\n\nPOLICEMAN. My sakes, you see the whole thing clear!\n\nCINDERELLA. I see it from beginning to end\u2014like as if I could touch\nit\u2014the gold walls and the throne, and the lamp-posts and the horses.\n\nPOLICEMAN. The horses?\n\nCINDERELLA. ... Well, the competitors. The speeches\u2014everything. If\nonly I had my invite! That wasn\u2019t a knock at the door, was it?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_so carried away that he goes to see_). No.\n\nCINDERELLA (_vindictively_). I daresay that flunkey\u2019s sitting\ndrinking in some public-house.\n\n    (_Here_ MARIE-THERESE _and_ GLADYS, _who have been\n    communicating across their boxes, politely invite the_\n    POLICEMAN _to go away_.)\n\nMARIE. Bonne nuit, Monsieur.\n\nGLADYS. Did you say you was going, Mister?\n\nPOLICEMAN. They\u2019re wonderful polite.\n\nCINDERELLA. I doubt that\u2019s not politeness. The naughties\u2014they\u2019re\nasking you to go away.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Oh! (_He rises with hauteur._)\n\nCINDERELLA. You see we\u2019re to have a bite of supper before I\nstart\u2014to celebrate the night.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Supper with the kids! When I was a kid in the country at\nBadgery\u2014you\u2019ve done it again!\n\nCINDERELLA. Done what?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_with that strange feeling of being at home_). I suppose\nI would be in the way?\n\nCINDERELLA. There\u2019s not very much to eat. There\u2019s just one for each.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I\u2019ve had my supper.\n\nCINDERELLA (_seeing her way_). Have you? Then I would be very\npleased if you would stay.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Thank you kindly.\n\n    (_She prepares the table for the feast. Eyes sparkle from\n    the boxes._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_shining_). This is the first party we\u2019ve ever had.\nPlease keep an eye on the door in case there\u2019s a knock.\n\n    (_She darts into her bedroom, and her charges are more at\n    their ease._)\n\nMARIE (_sitting up, the better to display her nightgown_).\nMonsieur, Monsieur, Voil\u00e0!\n\nGLADYS. Cinderella made it out of watching a shop window.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_like one who has known his hostess from infancy_). Just\nlike her.\n\nMARIE (_holding up a finger that is adorned with a ring_). Monsieur!\n\nGLADYS (_more practical_). The fire\u2019s going out.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_recklessly_). In with another penny. (_He feeds the\nfire with that noble coin._) Fellow allies, I\u2019m just going to take\na peep into the German trench! Hah!\n\n    (_He stealthily mounts a chair and puts his hand into\n    Gretchen\u2019s box. We must presume that it is bitten by the\n    invisible occupant, for he withdraws it hurriedly to the\n    hearty delight of the spectators. This mirth changes to\n    rapture as_ CINDERELLA _makes a conceited entrance carrying\n    a jug of milk and five hot potatoes in their jackets.\n    Handsomely laden as she is, it is her attire that calls\n    forth the applause. She is now wearing the traditional\n    short brown dress of_ CINDERELLA, _and her hair hangs\n    loose. She tries to look modest._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_displaying herself_). What do you think?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_again in Badgery_). Great! Turn round. And I suppose\nyou made it yourself out of a shop window?\n\nCINDERELLA. No, we didn\u2019t need no shop window; we all knew exactly\nwhat I was wearing when the knock came.\n\nGLADYS. Of course we did.\n\n    (_A potato is passed up to each and a cup of milk between\n    two. There is also a delicious saucerful of melted lard\n    into which they dip._ GRETCHEN _is now as much in evidence\n    as the others, and quite as attractive\u2014the fun becomes fast\n    and furious_.)\n\nCINDERELLA (_to_ POLICEMAN). A potato?\n\nPOLICEMAN. No, I thank you.\n\nCINDERELLA. Just a snack?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Thank you.\n\n    (_She shares with him._)\n\nCINDERELLA. A little dip?\n\nPOLICEMAN. No, I thank you.\n\nCINDERELLA. Just to look friendly.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I thank you. (_Dipping._) To you, Cinderella.\n\nCINDERELLA. I thank you.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_proposing a toast_). The King!\n\nCINDERELLA (_rather consciously_). And the Prince of Wales.\n\nGLADYS. And father.\n\nPOLICEMAN. The King, the Prince of Wales, and father.\n\n    (_The toast is drunk, dipped and eaten with acclamation._\n    GLADYS, _uninvited, recites \u2018The Mariners of England.\u2019_\n    MARIE-THERESE _follows (without waiting for the end) with\n    the Marseillaise, and_ GRETCHEN _puts out her tongue at\n    both. Our_ POLICEMAN _having intimated that he desires to\n    propose another toast of a more lengthy character, the\n    children are lifted down and placed in their nightgowns at\n    the table_.)\n\nPOLICEMAN (_suddenly becoming nervous_). I have now the honour to\npropose absent friends.\n\nGLADYS (_with an inspiration to which_ MARIE-THERESE _bows\nelegantly_). Vive la France!\n\nPOLICEMAN. I mean our friends at the Front. And they have their\nchildren, too. Your boxes we know about, but I daresay there\u2019s many\nsimilar and even queerer places, where the children, the smallest\nof our allies, are sleeping this night within the sound of shells.\n\nMARIE. La petite Belgique. La pauvre enfant!\n\nDELPHINE (_proudly_). Me!\n\nPOLICEMAN. So here\u2019s to absent friends\u2014\n\nGLADYS (_with another inspiration_). Absent boxes!\n\nPOLICEMAN. Absent boxes! And there\u2019s a party we know about who\nwould like uncommon to have the charge of the lot of them\u2014(_looking\nat Cinderella_). And I couples the toast with the name of the said\nparty.\n\nCINDERELLA (_giving a pennyworth for nothing_). Kind friends, it\nwould be pretending of me not to let on that I know I am the party\nreferred to by the last speaker\u2014in far too flattersome words. When\nI look about me and see just four boxes I am a kind of shamed, but\nit wasn\u2019t very convenient to me to have more. I will now conclude\nby saying I wish I was the old woman that lived in a shoe, and it\ndoesn\u2019t matter how many I had I would have known fine what to do.\nThe end.\n\n(_After further diversion._) It\u2019s a fine party. I hope your potato\nis mealy?\n\nPOLICEMAN. I never had a better tatie.\n\nCINDERELLA. Don\u2019t spare the skins.\n\nPOLICEMAN. But you\u2019re eating nothing yourself.\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019m not hungry. And, of course, I\u2019ll be expected to\ntake a bite at the ball.\n\n    (_This reminder of the ball spoils the_ POLICEMAN\u2019S _enjoyment_.)\n\nPOLICEMAN. I wish\u2014you wasn\u2019t so sure of the ball.\n\nGLADYS (_in defence_). Why shouldn\u2019t she not be sure of it?\n\nDELPHINE. Pourquoi, Monsieur?\n\nCINDERELLA (_rather hotly_). Don\u2019t say things like that here.\n\nMARIE. Has Monsieur by chance seen God-mamma coming?\n\nPOLICEMAN. God-mamma?\n\nCINDERELLA. That\u2019s my Godmother; she brings my ball dress and a\ncarriage with four ponies.\n\nGLADYS. Then away she goes to the ball\u2014hooray\u2014hooray!\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s all perfectly simple once Godmother comes.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_with unconscious sarcasm_). I can see she\u2019s important.\n\nCINDERELLA (_with the dreadful sinking that comes to her at\ntimes_). You think she\u2019ll come, don\u2019t you?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Cinderella, your hand\u2019s burning\u2014and in this cold room.\n\nCINDERELLA. Say you think she\u2019ll come.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I\u2014well, I.... I....\n\nGLADYS (_imploringly_). Say it, Mister!\n\nDELPHINE (_begging_). Monsieur! Monsieur!\n\nMARIE. If it is that you love me, Monsieur!\n\nPOLICEMAN (_in distress_). I question of there was ever before a\nmember of the Force in such a position. (_Yielding._) I expect\nshe\u2019ll come.\n\n    (_This settles it in the opinion of the children, but their\n    eyes are too bright for such a late hour, and they are ordered\n    to bed. Our_ POLICEMAN _replaces them in their boxes_.)\n\nCINDERELLA. One\u2014two\u2014three . . . couchy!\n\n    (_They disappear._)\n\nPOLICEMAN (_awkwardly and trying to hedge_). Of course this is an\nout-of-the-way little street for a Godmother to find.\n\nCINDERELLA. Yes, I\u2019ve thought of that. I\u2019d best go and hang about\noutside; she would know me by my dress.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_hastily_). I wouldn\u2019t do that. It\u2019s a cold night. (_He\nwanders about the room eyeing her sideways._) Balls is always late\nthings.\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019m none so sure. In war-time, you see, with the\nstreets so dark and the King so kind, it would be just like him to\nbegin early and close at ten instead of twelve. I must leave before\ntwelve. If I don\u2019t, there\u2019s terrible disasters happens.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_unable to follow this_). The ball might be put off\nowing to the Prince of Wales being in France.\n\nCINDERELLA. He catched the last boat. I\u2019ll go out and watch.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_desperate_). Stay where you are, and\u2014and I\u2019ll have a\nlook for her.\n\nCINDERELLA. You\u2019re too kind.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Not at all. I must be stepping at any rate. If I can\nlay hands on her I\u2019ll march her here, though I have to put the\nhandcuffs on her.\n\nGLADYS (_looking up_). I think I heard a knock!\n\n    (_The_ POLICEMAN _looks out, shakes his head, and finally\n    departs after a queer sort of handshake with_ MISS THING.)\n\nCINDERELLA. He\u2019s a nice man.\n\nGLADYS. Have you known him long?\n\nCINDERELLA (_thinking it out_). A longish time. He\u2019s head of the\nsecret police; him and me used to play together as children down in\nBadgery. His folks live in a magnificent castle, with two doors.\n(_She becomes a little bewildered._) I\u2019m all mixed up.\n\n    (_The children are soon asleep. She wanders aimlessly to\n    the door. The wall closes on the little room, and we now\n    see her standing in the street. Our_ POLICEMAN _returns and\n    flashes his lantern on her_.)\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s you!\n\nPOLICEMAN. It\u2019s me. But there\u2019s no Godmother! There\u2019s not a\nsoul.... No.... Good night, Cinderella. Go inside.\n\nCINDERELLA (_doggedly_). Not me! I don\u2019t feel the cold\u2014not much.\nAnd one has to take risks to get a Prince. The only thing I\u2019m\nfeared about is my feet. If they was to swell I mightn\u2019t be able\nto get the slippers on, and he would have naught to do with me.\n\nPOLICEMAN. What slippers? If you won\u2019t go back, I\u2019ll stop here with\nyou.\n\nCINDERELLA. No, I think there\u2019s more chance of her coming if I\u2019m\nalone.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I\u2019m very troubled about you.\n\nCINDERELLA (_wistfully_). Do you think I\u2019m just a liar? Maybe I am.\nYou see I\u2019m all mixed up. I\u2019m sore in need of somebody to help me\nout.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I would do it if I could.\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019m sure. (_Anxiously_.) Are you good at riddles?\n\n    (_He shakes his head._)\n\nThere\u2019s always a riddle before you can marry into a royal family.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_with increased gloom_). The whole thing seems to be\nmost terrible difficult.\n\nCINDERELLA. Yes.... Good night.\n\nPOLICEMAN. You won\u2019t let me stay with you?\n\nCINDERELLA. No.\n\n    (_He puts his lantern on the ground beside her._)\n\nWhat\u2019s that for?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_humbly_). It\u2019s just a sort of guard for you. (_He takes\noff his muffler and puts it several times round her neck._)\n\nCINDERELLA. Nice!\n\nPOLICEMAN. Good luck!\n\n    (_She finds it easiest just to nod in reply._)\n\nI wish I was a Prince.\n\nCINDERELLA (_suddenly struck by the idea_). You\u2019re kind of like him.\n\n    (_He goes away. She sits down on the step to wait. She\n    shivers. She takes the muffler off her neck and winds it\n    round her more valuable feet. She falls asleep._\n\n    _Darkness comes, and snow. From somewhere behind, the\n    shadowy figure of_ CINDERELLA\u2019S _Godmother, beautiful in\n    a Red Cross Nurse\u2019s uniform, is seen looking benignantly\n    on the waif_. CINDERELLA _is just a little vague, huddled\n    form\u2014there is no movement_.)\n\nGODMOTHER. Cinderella, my little godchild!\n\nCINDERELLA (_with eyes unopening_). Is that you, Godmother?\n\nGODMOTHER. It is I; my poor god-daughter is all mixed up, and I\nhave come to help her out.\n\nCINDERELLA. You have been long in coming. I very near gave you up.\n\nGODMOTHER. Sweetheart, I couldn\u2019t come sooner, because in these\ndays, you know, even the fairy godmother is with the Red Cross.\n\nCINDERELLA. Was that the reason? I see now; I thought perhaps you\nkept away because I wasn\u2019t a good girl.\n\nGODMOTHER. You have been a good brave girl; I am well pleased with\nmy darling godchild.\n\nCINDERELLA. It is fine to be called darling; it heats me up. I\u2019ve\nbeen wearying for it, Godmother. Life\u2019s a kind of hard.\n\nGODMOTHER. It will always be hard to you, Cinderella. I can\u2019t\npromise you anything else.\n\nCINDERELLA. I don\u2019t suppose I could have my three wishes, Godmother.\n\nGODMOTHER. I am not very powerful in these days, Cinderella; but\nwhat are your wishes?\n\nCINDERELLA. I would like fine to have my ball, Godmother.\n\nGODMOTHER. You shall have your ball.\n\nCINDERELLA. I would like to nurse the wounded.\n\nGODMOTHER. You shall nurse the wounded.\n\nCINDERELLA. I would like to be loved by the man of my choice,\nGodmother.\n\nGODMOTHER. You shall be loved by the man of your choice.\n\nCINDERELLA. Thank you kindly. The ball first, if you please, and\ncould you squeeze in the children so that they may see me in my\nglory.\n\nGODMOTHER. Now let this be my downtrodden godchild\u2019s ball, not as\nballs are, but as they are conceived to be in a little chamber in\nCinderella\u2019s head.\n\n    (_She fades from sight. In the awful stillness we can\n    now hear the tiny clatter of horses infinitely small and\n    infinitely far off. It is the equipage of_ CINDERELLA.\n    _Then an unearthly trumpet sounds thrice, and the darkness\n    is blown away._\n\n    _It is the night of the most celebrated ball in history,\n    and we see it through our heroine\u2019s eyes. She has, as it\n    were, made everything with her own hands, from the cloths\n    of gold to the ices._\n\n    _Nearly everything in the ball-room is of gold: it was\n    only with an effort that she checked herself from dabbing\n    gold on the regal countenances. You can see that she has\n    not passed by gin-palaces without thinking about them.\n    The walls and furniture are so golden that you have but\n    to lean against them to acquire a competency. There is a\n    golden throne with gold cloths on it, and the royal seats\n    are three golden rocking chairs; there would be a fourth\n    golden rocking chair if it were not that_ CINDERELLA _does\n    not want you to guess where she is to sit. These chairs\n    are stuffed to a golden corpulency. The panoply of the\n    throne is about twenty feet high\u2014each foot of pure gold;\n    and nested on the top of it is a golden reproduction of\n    the grandest thing_ CINDERELLA _has ever seen\u2014the private\n    box of a theatre. In this box sit, wriggle, and sprawl\n    the four children in their nightgowns, leaning over the\n    golden parapet as if to the manner born and carelessly\n    kicking nuggets out of it. They are shouting, pointing, and\n    otherwise behaving badly, eating oranges out of paper bags,\n    then blowing out the bags and bursting them. The superb\n    scene is lit by four street lamps with red glass. Dancing\n    is going on: the ladies all in white, the gentlemen in\n    black with swords. If you were unused to royal balls you\n    would think every one of these people was worth describing\n    separately; but, compared to what is coming, it may be said\n    that_ CINDERELLA _has merely pushed them on with her lovely\n    foot. They are her idea of courtiers, and have anxious\n    expressions as if they knew she was watching them. They\n    have character in the lump, if we may put it that way,\n    but none individually. Thus one cannot smile or sigh, for\n    instance, without all the others smiling or sighing. At\n    night they probably sleep in two large beds, one for ladies\n    and one for gentlemen, and if one of the ladies, say, wants\n    to turn round, she gives the signal, and they all turn\n    simultaneously. As children they were not like this; they\n    had genuine personal traits, but these have gradually been\n    blotted out as they basked in royal favour; thus, if the_\n    KING _wipes his glasses they all pretend that their glasses\n    need wiping, and when the_ QUEEN _lets her handkerchief\n    fall they all stoop loyally to pick up their own_.\n\n    _Down the golden steps at the back comes the_ LORD MAYOR,\n    _easily recognisable by his enormous chain_.)\n\nLORD MAYOR. O yes, O yes, make way everyone for the Lord\nMayor\u2014namely myself.\n\n    (_They all make way for him. Two black boys fling open\n    lovely curtains._)\n\nO yes, O yes, make way every one, and also myself, for Lord Times.\n\n    (_This is a magnificent person created by_ CINDERELLA _on\n    learning from_ MR. BODIE _that the press is all powerful\n    and that the \u2018Times\u2019 is the press. He carries one hand\n    behind his back, as if it might be too risky to show the\n    whole of himself at once, and it is noticeable that as he\n    walks his feet do not quite touch the ground. He is the\n    only person who is not a little staggered by the amount\n    of gold: you almost feel that he thinks there is not\n    quite enough of it. He very nearly sits down on one of\n    the royal rocking chairs: and the_ LORD MAYOR, _looking\n    red and unhappy, and as if he had now done for himself,\n    has to whisper to him that the seats under the throne are\n    reserved_.)\n\nO yes, O yes, make way for the Censor.\n\n    (CINDERELLA _has had a good deal of trouble over this\n    person, of whom she has heard a great deal in war-time,\n    without meeting anyone who can tell her what he is like.\n    She has done her best, and he is long and black and thin,\n    dressed as tightly as a fish, and carries an executioner\u2019s\n    axe. All fall back from him in fear, except_ LORD TIMES,\n    _who takes a step forward, and then the_ CENSOR _falls\n    back_.)\n\nO yes, O yes, make way everybody for his Royal Highness the King,\nand his good lady the Queen.\n\n    (_The_ KING _and_ QUEEN _are attired like their portraits\n    on playing cards, who are the only royalties_ CINDERELLA\n    _has seen, and they advance grandly to their rocking\n    chairs, looking as if they thought the whole public was\n    dirt, but not so much despised dirt as dirt with good\n    points._ LORD TIMES _fixes them with his eye, and the_ KING\n    _hastily crosses and shakes hands with him_.)\n\nO yes, O yes, make way everyone, except the King, and Queen, and\nLord Times, for His Highness Prince Hard-to-Please.\n\n    (_The heir apparent comes, preceded by trumpeters. His\n    dress may a little resemble that of the extraordinary\n    youth seen by_ CINDERELLA _in her only pantomime, but\n    what quite takes our breath away is his likeness to our_\n    POLICEMAN. _If the ball had taken place a night earlier\n    it may be hazarded that the_ PRINCE _would have presented\n    quite a different face. It is as if_ CINDERELLA\u2019S _views of\n    his personality had undergone some unaccountable change,\n    confusing even to herself, and for a moment the whole scene\n    rocks, the street lamps wink, and odd shadows stalk among\n    the courtiers, shadows of_ MR. BODIE, MARION, _and the\n    party in an unfinished coat, who have surely no right to be\n    here. This is only momentarily; then the palace steadies\n    itself again._\n\n    _The_ KING _rises, and in stately manner addresses his\n    guests in the words Cinderella conceives to be proper\n    to his royal mouth. As he stands waiting superbly for\n    the applause to cease, he holds on to a strap hanging\n    conveniently above his head. To_ CINDERELLA _strap-hanging\n    on the Underground has been a rare and romantic privilege._)\n\nKING. My loyal subjects, all \u2019ail! I am as proud of you as you are\nof me. It gives me and my good lady much pleasure to see you \u2019ere\nby special invite, feasting at our expense. There is a paper bag\nfor each, containing two sandwiches, buttered on both sides, a\npiece of cake, a hard-boiled egg, and an orange or a banana.\n\n    (_The cheers of the delighted courtiers gratify him, but\n    the vulgar children over his head continue their rub-a-dub\n    on the parapet until he glares up at them. Even then they\n    continue._)\n\nLadies and Gents all, pleasant though it is to fill up with good\nvictuals, that is not the chief object of this royal invite. We are\n\u2019ere for a solemn purpose, namely, to find a mate for our noble\nson. All the beauties are waiting in the lobby: no wonder he is\nexcited.\n\n    (_All look at the_ PRINCE, _who is rocking and yawning_.)\n\nHe will presently wake up; but first I want to say\u2014(_here he\nbecomes conscious of_ LORD TIMES). What is it?\n\nLORD TIMES. Less talk.\n\nKING. Certainly. (_He sits down._)\n\nPRINCE (_encouraged to his feet by various royal nudges_). My liege\nKing and Queen-Mother, you can have the competitors brought in, and\nI will take a look at them; but I have no hope. My curse is this,\nthat I am a scoffer about females. I can play with them for a idle\nhour and then cast them from me even as I cast this banana skin. I\ncan find none so lovely that I may love her for aye from the depths\nof my passionate heart. I am so blasted particular. O yes! O yes!\n(_He sits down and looks helpless._)\n\nKING (_undismayed_). All ready?\n\n    (_The_ LORD MAYOR _bows_.)\n\nAll is ready, my son.\n\nPRINCE (_bored_). Then let loose the Beauts.\n\n    (_To heavenly music from the royal hurdy-gurdies the_\n    BEAUTIES _descend the stairs, one at a time. There are a\n    dozen of the fine creatures, in impudent confections such\n    as_ CINDERELLA _has seen in papers in_ MR. BODIE\u2019S _studio;\n    some of them with ropes of hair hanging down their proud\n    backs as she has seen them in a hair-dresser\u2019s window. As\n    we know, she has once looked on at a horse show, and this\n    has coloured her conception of a competition for a prince.\n    The ladies prance round the ball-room like high-stepping\n    steeds; it is evident that_ CINDERELLA _has had them fed\n    immediately before releasing them; her pride is to show\n    them at their very best, and then to challenge them._\n\n    _They paw the floor wantonly until_ LORD TIMES _steps\n    forward. Peace thus restored_, HIS MAJESTY _proceeds_.)\n\nKING. The first duty of a royal consort being to be _good_, the\ntest of goodness will now be applied by the Lord Mayor. Every\ncompetitor who does not pass in goodness will be made short work of.\n\n    (_Several ladies quake, and somewhere or other unseen_\n    CINDERELLA _is chuckling_.)\n\nONE OF THE STEEDS. I wasn\u2019t told about this. It isn\u2019t fair.\n\nLORD MAYOR (_darkly_). If your Grace wishes to withdraw\u2014\n\n    (_She stamps._)\n\nKING. The Lord Mayor will now apply the test.\n\nLORD MAYOR (_to a gold page_). The therm-mo-ometers, boy!\n\n    (_A whole boxful of thermometers is presented to him by\n    the page on bended knee. The_ LORD MAYOR _is now in his\n    element. He has ridden in gold coaches and knows what\n    hussies young women often are. To dainty music he trips up\n    the line of beauties and pops a tube into each pouting\n    mouth. The competitors circle around, showing their paces\n    while he stands, watch in hand, giving them two minutes.\n    Then airily he withdraws the tubes; he is openly gleeful\n    when he finds sinners. Twice he is in doubt, it is a very\n    near thing, and he has to consult the_ KING _in whispers:\n    the_ KING _takes the_ QUEEN _aside, to whisper behind\n    the door as it were; then they both look at_ LORD TIMES,\n    _who, without even stepping forward, says \u2018No\u2019\u2014and the\n    doubtfuls are at once bundled out of the chamber with the\n    certainties. Royalty sighs, and the courtiers sigh and\n    the_ LORD MAYOR _sighs in a perfunctory way, but there\n    is a tossing of manes from the beauties who have scraped\n    through_.)\n\nKING (_stirring up the_ PRINCE, _who has fallen asleep_). Our Royal\nBud will now graciously deign to pick out a few possibles.\n\n    (_His Royal Highness yawns._)\n\nLORD MAYOR (_obsequiously_). If your Highness would like a little\nassistance\u2014\n\nPRINCE (_you never know how they will take things_). We shall do\nthis for ourselves, my good fellow.\n\n    (_He smacks the_ LORD MAYOR\u2019S _face with princely elegance.\n    The_ LORD MAYOR _takes it as a favour, and the courtiers\n    gently smack each other\u2019s faces and are very proud to\n    be there. The_ PRINCE _moves languidly down the line of\n    beauties considering their points, occasionally nodding\n    approval but more often screwing up his nose. The courtiers\n    stand ready with nods or noses. Several ladies think\n    they have been chosen, but he has only brought them into\n    prominence to humiliate them; he suddenly says \u2018Good-bye,\u2019\n    and they have to go, while he is convulsed with merriment.\n    He looks sharply at the courtiers to see if they are\n    convulsed also, and they are. The others are flung out._)\n\nQUEEN (_hanging on to her strap_). Does our Royal one experience no\npalpitation at all?\n\nPRINCE (_sleepily_). Ah me, ah me!\n\nLORD TIMES (_irritated_). You\u2019re well called \u2019Ard-to-Please. You\nwould turn up your nose at a lady though she were shaped like\nApollo\u2019s bow.\n\n    (_The_ PRINCE _shrugs his shoulder to indicate that love\n    cannot be forced_.)\n\nLORD MAYOR (_darkly_). And now we come to the severer test.\n\n    (_With a neat action, rather like taking a lid off a pot,\n    the_ LORD MAYOR _lets it be known to the ladies that\n    they must now lift their skirts to show their feet. When\n    this devastating test is concluded, there are only two\n    competitors left in the room._)\n\nLORD TIMES (_almost as if he were thinking of himself_). Can\u2019t have\nTwo.\n\n    (_Cards such as_ CINDERELLA _saw at the horse show, with\n    \u20181st,\u2019 \u20182nd,\u2019 and \u20183rd\u2019 on them, are handed to the_ PRINCE.\n    _Like one well used to such proceedings, he pins 2nd and\n    3rd into the ladies\u2019 bodices._)\n\nQUEEN (_gloomily_). But still no first.\n\n    (_The_ CHILDREN _applaud; they have been interfering\n    repeatedly_.)\n\nKING. Come, come, proud youth, you feel no palps at all?\n\nPRINCE. Not a palp. Perhaps for a moment this one\u2019s nose\u2014that one\u2019s\ncock of the head\u2014But it has passed.\n\n    (_He drearily resumes his rocking chair. No one seems to\n    know what to do next._)\n\nMARIE (_to the rescue_). The two Ugly Sisters! Monsieur le Roi, the\ntwo Ugly Sisters! (_She points derisively at the winners._)\n\nKING (_badgered_). How did these children get their invites?\n\n    (_This is another thing that no one knows. Once more the\n    room rocks, and_ MR. BODIE _passes across it as if looking\n    for some one. Then a growing clamour is heard outside.\n    Bugles sound. The_ LORD MAYOR _goes and returns with\n    strange news_.)\n\nLORD MAYOR. Another competitor, my King. Make way for the Lady\nCinderella!\n\nKING. Cinderella? I don\u2019t know her.\n\nGLADYS (_nearly falling out of the box_). You\u2019ll soon know her. Now\nyou\u2019ll see! Somebody wake the Prince up.\n\n    (_The portals are flung open, and_ CINDERELLA _is seen\n    alighting from her lovely equipage, which we will not\n    describe because some one has described it before. But\n    note the little waggle of her foot just before she favours\n    the ground. We have thought a great deal about how our_\n    CINDERELLA _should be dressed for this occasion: white of\n    course, and she looked a darling in it, but we boggle at\n    its really being of the grandest stuff and made in the shop\n    where the Beauties got theirs. No, the material came from\n    poorer warehouses in some shabby district not far from the\n    street of the penny shop; her eyes had glistened as she\n    gazed at it through the windows, and she paid for it with\n    her life\u2019s blood, and made the frock herself. Very possibly\n    it was bunchy here and there._\n\n    CINDERELLA _then comes sailing down into the ball-room, not\n    a sound to be heard except the ecstatic shrieks of the four\n    children. She is modest but calmly confident; she knows\n    exactly what to do. She moves once round the room to show\n    her gown, then curtseys to the Royal personages; then,\n    turning to the_ LORD MAYOR, _opens her mouth and signs to\n    him to pop in the thermometer. He does it as in a dream.\n    Presently he is excitedly showing the thermometer to the_\n    KING.)\n\nKING. Marvellous! 99!\n\n    (_The cry is repeated from all sides. The_ QUEEN _hands\n    the_ KING _a long pin from her coiffure, and the_ PRINCE\n    _is again wakened_.)\n\nPRINCE (_with his hand to his brow_). What, another! Oh, all right;\nbut you know this is a dog\u2019s life. (_He goes to_ CINDERELLA, _takes\none glance at her and resumes his chair_.)\n\nLORD MAYOR (_while the children blub_). That settles it, I think.\n(_He is a heartless fellow._) That will do. Stand back, my girl.\n\nCINDERELLA (_calmly_). I don\u2019t think.\n\nKING. It\u2019s no good, you know.\n\nCINDERELLA (_curtseying_). Noble King, there is two bits of me\nthy son hath not yet seen. I crave my rights. (_She points to the\ntwo bits referred to, which are encased in the loveliest glass\nslippers._)\n\nKING. True. Boy, do your duty.\n\nPRINCE. Oh, bother!\n\n    (_Those words are the last spoken by him in his present\n    state. When we see him again, which is the moment\n    afterwards, he is translated. He looks the same, but so\n    does a clock into which new works have been put. The change\n    is effected quite simply by_ CINDERELLA _delicately raising\n    her skirt and showing him her foot. As the exquisite nature\n    of the sight thus vouchsafed to him penetrates his being a\n    tremor passes through his frame; his vices take flight from\n    him and the virtues enter. It is a heady wakening, and he\n    falls at her feet. The courtiers are awkward, not knowing\n    whether they should fall also._ CINDERELLA _beams to the\n    children, who utter ribald cries of triumph_.)\n\nKING (_rotating on his strap_). Give him air! Fill your lungs, my\nson!\n\nQUEEN (_on hers_). My boy! My boy!\n\nLORD MAYOR (_quickly taking the royal cue_). Oh, lady fair!\n\n    (_The_ PRINCE\u2019S _palpitations increase in violence_.)\n\nQUEEN. Oh, happy sight!\n\nKING. Oh, glorious hour!\n\nLORD MAYOR (_not sure that he was heard the first time_). Oh, lady\nfair!\n\n    (_The_ PRINCE _springs to his feet. He is looking very\n    queer_.)\n\nLORD TIMES (_probably remembering how he looked once_). The Prince\nis about to propose!\n\nLORD MAYOR. O yes, O yes, O yes!\n\nKING. Proceed, my son.\n\nPRINCE (_with lover-like contortions and addressing himself largely\nto the feet_). Dew of the morning, garden of delight, sweet petals\nof enchanted nights, the heavens have opened and through the chink\nthou hast fallen at my feet, even as I fall at thine. Thou art not\none but twain, and these the twain\u2014Oh, pretty feet on which my lady\nwalks, are they but feet? O no, O no, O no! They are so small I\ncannot see them. Hie! A candle that I may see my lady\u2019s feet!\n\n    (_He kisses one foot, and she holds up the other for similar\n    treatment._)\n\nO Cinderella, if thou wilt deign to wife with me, I\u2019ll do my best\nto see that through the years you always walk on kisses.\n\n    (_The courtiers resolve to walk on kisses for evermore._)\n\nLORD MAYOR. The Prince has proposed. The Lady Cinderella will now\nreply.\n\nKING. Lovely creature, take pity on my royal son.\n\nQUEEN. Cinderella, be my daughter.\n\nLORD TIMES (_succinctly_). Yes, or no?\n\nCINDERELLA. There\u2019s just one thing. Before I answer, I would like\nthat little glass thing to be put in his mouth.\n\nLORD MAYOR (_staggered_). The Ther-mo-mo-meter?\n\nKING. In our _Prince\u2019s_ mouth!\n\nLORD TIMES. Why not?\n\nCINDERELLA. Just to make sure that he is good.\n\nPRINCE (_with a sinking_). Oh, I say!\n\nQUEEN. Of course he is good, Cinderella\u2014he is our son.\n\nCINDERELLA (_doggedly_). I would like it put in his mouth.\n\nKING. But\u2014\n\nPRINCE (_alarmed_). Pater!\n\nLORD TIMES. It must be done.\n\n    (_The test is therefore made. The royal mouth has to open\n    to the thermometer, which is presently passed to the_ KING\n    _for examination. He looks very grave. The_ PRINCE _seizes\n    the tell-tale thing, and with a happy thought lets it fall_.)\n\nPRINCE. 99!\n\n    (_The joyous cry is taken up by all, and_ CINDERELLA _goes\n    divinely on one knee to her lord and master_.)\n\nCINDERELLA (_simply_). I accepts.\n\nKING (_when the uproar has ceased_). All make merry! The fire is\ngoing low. (_Recklessly._) In with another shilling!\n\n    (_A shilling is dumped into the shilling-in-the-slot stove,\n    which blazes up. The_ PRINCE _puts his arm round his love_.)\n\nLORD TIMES (_again remembering his day of days_). My Prince, not so\nfast. There is still the riddle.\n\nPRINCE. I had forgotten.\n\nCINDERELLA (_quaking_). I was feared there would be a riddle.\n\nKING (_prompted by_ LORD TIMES). Know ye all, my subjects, that\nbefore blue blood can wed there is a riddle; and she who cannot\nguess it\u2014(_darkly_) is taken away and censored.\n\n    (_The_ CENSOR _with his axe comes into sudden prominence\n    behind_ CINDERELLA _and the two other competitors_.)\n\nMy Lord Times, the riddle!\n\nLORD TIMES. I hold in my one hand the riddle, and in the other\nthe answer in a sealed envelope, to prevent any suspicion of\nhanky-panky. Third prize, forward! Now, my child, this is the\nriddle. On the night of the Zeppelin raids, what was it that\neveryone rushed to save first?\n\n3RD PRIZE. The children.\n\nLORD TIMES. Children not included.\n\n    (_The lady is at a loss._)\n\nPRINCE. Time\u2019s up! Hoo-ray!\n\n    (_He signs callously to the_ CENSOR, _who disappears with\n    his victim through a side door, to reappear presently,\n    wiping his axe and skipping gaily_.)\n\nLORD TIMES. Second prize, forward. Now, Duchess, answer.\n\n2ND PRIZE. Her jewels!\n\n    (LORD TIMES _shakes his head_.)\n\nPRINCE (_brightly_). Off with her head! Drown her in a bucket!\n\n    (_The_ CENSOR _again removes the lady and does his fell work_.)\n\nLORD TIMES. First prize, forward. Now, Cinderella, answer.\n\n    (_The_ CENSOR, _a kindly man but used to his calling, puts\n    his hand on her shoulder, to lead her away. She removes it\n    without looking at him._)\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s not a catch, is it?\n\nLORD TIMES (_hotly_). No, indeed.\n\nCINDERELLA. There\u2019s just one thing all true Britons would be\nanxious about.\n\nKING (_who has been allowed to break the envelope and read the\nanswer_). But what, Cinderella\u2014what?\n\nLORD MAYOR (_hedging again_). What, chit?\n\nCINDERELLA. Their love-letters.\n\nKING and LORD TIMES (_together, but_ LORD TIMES _a little in\nfront_). The fair Cinderella has solved the riddle!\n\nLORD MAYOR (_promptly_). Oh, fair lady!\n\nCINDERELLA (_remembering the Venus_). There\u2019s just one thing that\nmakes it not quite a perfect ball. I wanted Mrs. Bodie to be one of\nthe competitors\u2014so as I could beat her.\n\nKING. Send for her at once. Take a taxi.\n\n    (_A courtier rushes out whistling, and returns with_ VENUS,\n    _now imbued with life. Her arms go out wantonly to the_\n    PRINCE. _He signs to the_ CENSOR, _who takes her away and\n    breaks her up_.)\n\nPRINCE. I crave a boon. The wedding at once, my lord.\n\n    (LORD TIMES _signifies assent_.)\n\nKING. The marriage ceremony will now take place.\n\nCINDERELLA (_calling to the children_). Bridesmaids!\n\n    (_They rush down and become her bridesmaids. At the top of\n    the stair appears a penguin\u2014a penguin or a bishop, they\n    melt into each other on great occasions. The regal couple\n    kneel._)\n\nPENGUIN. Do you, O Prince, take this lady to be your delightful\nwife\u2014and to adore her for ever?\n\nPRINCE. I do, I do! Oh, I do, I do indeed! I do\u2014I do\u2014I do!\n\nPENGUIN. Do you, Cinderella, loveliest of your sex, take this\nPrince for husband, and to love, honour, and obey him?\n\nCINDERELLA (_primly_). If you please.\n\nPENGUIN. The ring?\n\n    (_It is_ MARIE-THERESE\u2019S _great hour; she passes her ring\n    to_ CINDERELLA, _who is married in it. Triumphant music\n    swells out as a crown is put upon our Princess\u2019s head, and\n    an extraordinary long train attached to her person. Her\n    husband and she move dreamily round the ball-room, the\n    children holding up the train._ LORD TIMES _with exquisite\n    taste falls in behind them. Then follow the courtiers, all\n    dreamily; and completing the noble procession is the_ LORD\n    MAYOR, _holding aloft on a pole an enormous penny. It has\n    the face of_ CINDERELLA _on one side of it\u2014the penny which\n    to those who know life is the most romantic of coins unless\n    its little brother has done better._\n\n    _The music, despite better intentions, begins to lose its\n    head. It obviously wants to dance. Everyone wants to dance.\n    Even_ LORD TIMES _has trouble with his legs_.)\n\nKING (_threatening, supplicating_). Don\u2019t dance yet. I\u2019ve got a\nsurprise for you. Don\u2019t dance. I haven\u2019t told you about it, so as\nto keep you on the wonder.\n\n    (_In vain do they try to control themselves._)\n\nIt\u2019s ices!\n\n    (_All stop dancing._)\n\n(_Hoarsely._) There\u2019s an ice-cream for everybody.\n\n    (_Amid applause the royal ice-cream barrow is wheeled on by\n    haughty menials who fill the paper sieves with dabs of the\n    luscious condiment. The paper sieves are of gold, but there\n    are no spoons. The children, drunk with expectation, forget\n    their manners and sit on the throne. Somehow_ CINDERELLA\u2019S\n    _penny clients drift in again, each carrying a sieve._)\n\nNone touches till one royal lick has been taken by us four.... (_He\ngives them a toast._) To the Bridal Pair!\n\n    (_At the royal word \u2018Go!\u2019_ ALL _attack the ices with their\n    tongues, greedily but gracefully. They end in the approved\n    manner by gobbling up the sieves. It is especially charming\n    to see the last of_ LORD TIME\u2019S _sieve unbend. The music\n    becomes irresistible. If you did not dance you would be\n    abandoned by your legs. It is as if a golden coin had\n    been dropped into a golden slot. Ranks are levelled. The_\n    KING _asks_ GLADYS _for this one; the_ QUEEN _is whisked\n    away by_ MR. BODIE. _Perhaps they dance like costers: if\n    you had time to reflect you might think it a scene in the\n    streets. It becomes too merry to last; couples are whirled\n    through the walls as if the floor itself were rotating:\n    soon_ CINDERELLA _and her_ PRINCE _dance alone. It is then\n    that the clock begins to strike twelve._ CINDERELLA _should\n    fly now, or woe befall her. Alas, she hears nothing save\n    the whispers of her lover. The hour has struck, and her\n    glorious gown shrinks slowly into the tattered frock of a\n    girl with a broom. Too late she huddles on the floor to\n    conceal the change. In another moment the_ PRINCE _must\n    see. The children gather round her with little cries, and,\n    spreading out their nightgowns to conceal her, rush her\n    from the scene. It is then that the_ PRINCE _discovers his\n    loss. In a frenzy he calls her sweet name. The bewildered\n    girl has even forgotten to drop the slipper, without\n    which he shall never find her._ MARIE-THERESE, _the\n    ever-vigilant, steals back with it, and leaves it on the\n    floor_.\n\n    _The ball-room is growing dark. The lamps have gone out.\n    There is no light save the tiniest glow, which has been\n    showing on the floor all the time, unregarded by us. It\n    seems to come from a policeman\u2019s lantern. The gold is all\n    washed out by the odd streaks of white that come down like\n    rain. Soon the_ PRINCE\u2019S _cry of_ \u2018CINDERELLA, CINDERELLA\u2019\n    _dies away. It is no longer a ball-room on which the\n    lantern sheds this feeble ray. It is the street outside_\n    CINDERELLA\u2019S _door, a white street now, silent in snow. The\n    child in her rags, the policeman\u2019s scarf still round her\n    precious feet, is asleep on the door step, very little life\n    left in her, very little oil left in the lantern._)\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\n\n_The retreat in which_ CINDERELLA _is to be found two months later\nhas been described to us by our policeman with becoming awe. It\nseems to be a very pleasant house near the sea, and possibly in\npre-war days people were at ease in it. None of that, says the\npoliceman emphatically, with_ DR. BODIE _in charge. He could\nwink discreetly at_ DR. BODIE _in absence, but was prepared to\nsay on oath that no one ever winked at her when she was present.\nIn the old days he had been more than a passive observer of the\nsuffragette in action, had even been bitten by them in the way of\nbusiness; had not then gone into the question of their suitability\nfor the vote, but liked the pluck of them; had no objection to his\nfeelings on the woman movement being summed up in this way, that\nhe had vaguely disapproved of their object, but had admired their\nmethods. After knowing_ DR. BODIE _he must admit that his views\nabout their object had undergone a change; was now a whole-hearted\nsupporter, felt in his bones that_ DR. BODIE _was born to command:\nastonishing thing about her that she did it so natural-like. She\nwas not in the least mannish or bullying; she was a very ladylike\nsort of person, a bit careful about the doing of her hair, and the\nset of her hat, and she had a soft voice, though what you might\ncall an arbitrary manner. Very noticeable the way she fixed you\nwith her steely eye. In appearance she was very like her room\nat the retreat, or the room was very like her; everything in\ncruel good order, as you might say; an extraordinarily decorous\nwriting table near the centre, the sort of table against which\nyou instinctively stood and waited to make your deposition; the\nfriendliest thing in the room (to a policeman) was the book-cases\nwith wire doors, because the books looked through the wires at you\nin a homely way like prisoners. It was a sunny room at times, but\nthis did not take away from its likeness to the doctor, who could\nalso smile on occasion._\n\n_Into this room_ MR. BODIE _is shown on a summer afternoon by a\nmaid with no nonsense about her in working hours._\n\n\nMAID (_who knows that male visitors should be impressed at once_).\nThis way, sir; I shall see whether Dr. Bodie is disengaged.\n\nBODIE (_doggedly_). _Miss_ Bodie.\n\nMAID (_with firm sweetness_). Dr. Bodie, sir. What name shall I say?\n\nBODIE (_wincing_). Mr. Bodie. Her brother.\n\nMAID (_unmoved_). I shall tell Dr. Bodie, sir.\n\nBODIE (_a fighter to the last_). Miss Bodie.\n\nMAID. Dr. Bodie, sir.\n\n    (_He is surveying the room with manly disapproval when\n    his sister appears and greets him. She is all that the\n    policeman has said of her, and more; if we did not have a\n    heroine already we would choose_ DR. BODIE. _At the same\n    time it cannot be denied that she is enough to make any\n    brother wince. For instance, immediately she has passed\n    him the time of day, she seems to be considering his case.\n    Perhaps this is because she has caught him frowning at her\n    stethescope. There is certainly a twinkle somewhere about\n    her face. Before he can step back indignantly she raises\n    one of his eyelids and comes to a conclusion._)\n\nDR. BODIE. Oh dear! Well, Dick, it\u2019s entirely your own fault.\n\n    (MR. BODIE _has a curious trick of kicking backwards with\n    one foot when people take liberties with him, and a liberty\n    has been taken with him now._)\n\nKick away Dick, but you needn\u2019t pretend that you have no faith in\nme as a medical man; for when you are really ill you always take\nthe first train down here. In your heart I am the only doctor you\nbelieve in.\n\nBODIE. Stuff, Nellie.\n\nDR. BODIE. Then why did you put Cinderella under my care?\n\nBODIE. I didn\u2019t know where else to send her when she was discharged\nfrom the hospital. Had to give her a chance of picking up.\n(_Thawing._) It was good of you to give her board and lodging.\n\nDR. BODIE (_sitting down to her day-book_). Not at all. I\u2019ll send\nyou in a whacking bill for her presently.\n\nBODIE (_kicking_). Well, I\u2019ve come all this way to see her. How is\nshe getting on, Nellie?\n\nDR. BODIE. She is in the garden. I daresay you can see her from the\nwindow.\n\nBODIE. I see some men only; I believe they are wounded Tommies.\n\nDR. BODIE. Yes. There\u2019s a Convalescent Home down here. That is part\nof my job. Do the men look as if they were gathering round anything?\n\nBODIE. They do.\n\nDR. BODIE. Ah! Then that is Cinderella. She is now bossing the\nBritish Army, Dick.\n\nBODIE. I might have guessed it. (_Chuckling._) Does she charge a\npenny?\n\nDR. BODIE. Not to the military.\n\nBODIE. Nellie, I have had some inquiries made lately about her\nparents.\n\nDR. BODIE. She doesn\u2019t know much about them herself.\n\nBODIE. No, and we needn\u2019t tell her this. Her mother\u2014ah well, poor\nsoul!\u2014and the father was a very bad egg. And from that soil,\nNellie, this flower has sprung. Nobody to tend it. Can\u2019t you see\nlittle Cinderella with her watering-can carefully bringing up\nherself. I wish I could paint that picture.\n\n    (_Perhaps_ DR. BODIE _sees the picture even more clearly\n    than he does_.)\n\nI see her now. She\u2019s on a bed, Nellie.\n\nDR. BODIE. Yes. That is for convenience, for wheeling her about.\n\nBODIE (_waving_). She sees me. And how is she, Nell?\n\nDR. BODIE. She is always bright\u2014perhaps too bright.\n\nBODIE. Can\u2019t be too bright.\n\nDR. BODIE (_controlling her feelings_). A girl who is found frozen\nin the street by a policeman and taken to a London Hospital, where\nshe has pneumonia\u2014poor little waif! You know, she is very frail,\nDick.\n\nBODIE. I know; but she will get better, won\u2019t she?\n\n    (_He has said it confidently, but his sister looks at him\n    and turns away. He is startled._)\n\nCome, Nellie, she is going to get better, isn\u2019t she?\n\nDR. BODIE (_shaking her head_). There isn\u2019t much chance, Dick. Her\nbody and soul have had to do too long without the little things\nthey needed.\n\nBODIE. She shall have them now, I promise. What are they?\n\nDR. BODIE. First of all, just food. She has been half starved all\nher life. And then human affection. She has been starved of that\nalso; she who has such a genius for it.\n\n    (_She goes to the window and calls._)\n\nDR. BODIE. No. 7, bring Cinderella in here.\n\n    (CINDERELLA _in her bed is wheeled in through the window by\n    the soldier_, DANNY. _She is wearing a probationer\u2019s cap\n    and dressing jacket. The bed is a simple iron one, small\n    and low, of the kind that was so common in war hospitals;\n    it is on tiny pneumatic wheels with ball bearings for easy\n    propulsion. Though frail_, CINDERELLA _is full of glee_.)\n\nBODIE. Hurray, Cinderella!\n\nCINDERELLA. Hurray! Isn\u2019t it lovely. I\u2019m glad you\u2019ve seen me in my\ncarriage. When I saw there was visitor I thought at first it might\nbe David.\n\nBODIE. David? I didn\u2019t know you.... Is he a relative?\n\n    (CINDERELLA _finds this extremely funny\u2014so does_ DANNY;\n    _even the_ DOCTOR _is discreetly amused_.)\n\nCINDERELLA (_to Danny_). Tell the men that! He\u2019s not exactly a\nrelative. (_She pulls Mr. Bodie down by the lapels of his coat._)\nHe\u2019s just that great big ridiculous policeman!\n\nBODIE. Oho! Our policeman again! Does he come all this way to see\nyou?\n\nCINDERELLA (_her shoulders rising in pride_). Twice already; and\nhe\u2019s coming again to-day! Mr. Bodie, get the Doctor to take you\nover the Convalescent Home. There\u2019s a field with cows in it, a\nwhole litter of them! And the larder? There\u2019s barrel upon barrel\nfull of eggs and sawdust, and Danny says\u2014this is Danny\u2014\n\n    (DANNY, _who is slightly lame and is in hospital blue,\n    comes to attention_.)\n\nDanny says the hens lay in the barrels so as to save time in\npacking.\n\n    (DANNY _finds the severe eye of the Doctor upon him and is\n    abashed_.)\n\nMr. Bodie, look! (_displaying her cap_). The Doctor lets me wear\nit; it makes me half a nurse, a kind of nurse\u2019s help. I make\nbandages, and they\u2019re took away in glass bottles and sterilized.\nMr. Bodie, as sure as death I\u2019m doing something for my country.\n\nDR. BODIE. Cinderella, you\u2019re talking too much.\n\nCINDERELLA (_subsiding meekly_). Yes, Doctor.\n\nDR. BODIE. Dick, I\u2019m going over to the hospital presently. If you\nlike to come with me\u2014_really_ want to see it\u2014no affected interest\u2014\n\nBODIE. Thanks, I should like it\u2014Dr. Bodie.\n\nDR. BODIE (_to Danny_). You\u2019re not required any more, No. 7.\n\n    (DANNY _is going thankfully, but she suddenly pulls him\n    forward to examine his face_.)\n\nNo. 7, you are wearing that brown eye again.\n\nDANNY (_who has a glass eye_). Yes, Doctor\u2014you see it\u2019s like this.\nFirst they sent me a brown eye. Then some meddlesome person finds\nout my natural eye is blue. So then they sends me a blue eye.\n\nDOCTOR. Yes, where is it?\n\nDANNY. It was a beautiful eye, Doctor\u2014but I had taken a fancy to\nlittle browny. And I have a young lady; so I took the liberty of\nhaving the blue eye made up into a brooch and I sent it to her.\n\nDR. BODIE (_without moving a muscle_). I shall report you.\n\nBODIE (_when the martinet and Danny have gone_). Are you afraid of\nher, Cinderella? I am.\n\nCINDERELLA. No! She sometimes dashes me, but she is a fearful\nkind lady. (_She pulls him down again for further important\nrevelations._) She\u2019s very particular about her feet.\n\nBODIE (_staggered_). Is she! In a feminine way?\n\nCINDERELLA. Yes.\n\nBODIE. Hurray! Then I have her. The Achilles Heel! (_He is once\nmore jerked down._)\n\nCINDERELLA. I have a spring bed.\n\nBODIE. Ah!\n\nCINDERELLA (_in some awe_). The first time I woke in hospital, an\nangel with streamers was standing there holding a tray in her hand,\nand on the tray was a boiled egg. Then I thought it was the egg you\nget the day before you die.\n\nBODIE. What egg is that?\n\nCINDERELLA (_who in the course of a troubled life has acquired much\nmiscellaneous information_). In the Workhouse you always get an egg\nto your tea the day before you die. (_She whispers._) I know now\nI\u2019m not the real Cinderella.\n\nBODIE (_taking her hand_). How did you find out?\n\nCINDERELLA (_gravely_). It\u2019s come to me. The more I eat the\nclearer I see things. I think it was just an idea of mine; being\nlonely-like I needed to have something to hang on to.\n\nBODIE. That was it. Are you sorry you\u2019re not the other one?\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019m glad to be just myself. It\u2019s a pity though about\nthe glass slippers. That\u2019s a lovely idea.\n\nBODIE. Yes.\n\nCINDERELLA. Tell me about _Them_.\n\nBODIE. The children? They\u2019re still with me, of course. I\u2019m keeping\nmy promise, and they will be with me till you are able to take\ncare of them again. I have them a great deal in the studio in the\nday-time.\n\nCINDERELLA (_cogitating_). I wonder if that\u2019s wise.\n\nBODIE. Oh, they don\u2019t disturb me much.\n\nCINDERELLA. I was meaning perhaps the smell of the paint would be\nbad for them.\n\nBODIE. I see! Of course I could give up painting!\n\nCINDERELLA (_innocently_). I think that would be safest.\n\n    (MR. BODIE _kicks_.)\n\nAre you kind to Gretchen?\n\nBODIE. I hope so. I feel it\u2019s my duty.\n\nCINDERELLA (_with a sinking_). It\u2019ll not be no use for Gretchen if\nthat\u2019s how you do it. I\u2019m sure I should get up. (_She attempts to\nrise._)\n\nBODIE. Now, now!\n\nCINDERELLA. Are you fond of her, especially when she\u2019s bad?\n\nBODIE (_hurriedly_). Yes, I am, I am! But she\u2019s never bad! they are\nall good, they are like angels.\n\nCINDERELLA (_despairing_). Then they\u2019re cheating you. Where\u2019s my\nboots?\n\nBODIE. Quiet! That\u2019s all right.\n\n    (_A pretty and not very competent_ PROBATIONER _comes in at\n    the window, carrying fishing rods, followed by_ DANNY _with\n    croquet mallets and balls_.)\n\nPROBATIONER (_laden_). I want to shake hands with you, Mr. Bodie,\nbut you see how I am placed.\n\nCINDERELLA. Do your pretty bow at any rate.\n\n    (_The attractive girl does her pretty bow to_ MR. BODIE.\n    _It is one of the few things she does well, and will\n    probably by and by bring her into some safe matrimonial\n    harbour; but in her country\u2019s great hour she is of less\n    value to it than a ball of twine. She is of a nice nature\n    and would like to be of use, but things slip through her\n    hands as through her mind; she cannot even carry a few\n    lengths of fishing rods without an appeal to heaven. She is\n    counting the pieces now with puckered brow._)\n\nDANNY (_one of the few men in the world who can carry four croquet\nballs in two hands_). You see, sir, there is a pond in the garden,\nand we have a fishing competition; and as there are not enough\nrods the men hides them so as to be sure of having a rod next day.\n\nPROBATIONER. It is very unfair to the others, Danny.\n\nDANNY (_warmly_). That\u2019s what I say, Nurse.\n\nCINDERELLA. The Matron found a rod the other morning hidden beneath\none of the men\u2019s mattresses.\n\nPROBATIONER. The odd thing is how he could have got it to the\nhouse without being seen. (_Her counting of the pieces ends in her\ndiscomfiture._)\n\nBODIE. Anything wrong?\n\nPROBATIONER. There are only nine pieces. A whole rod is missing!\n\nCINDERELLA (_trembling for her_). Nurse, I\u2019m so sorry!\n\nBODIE. After all, it\u2019s a trivial matter, isn\u2019t it?\n\nPROBATIONER (_her beautiful empty eyes filling_). Trivial! I\u2019m\nresponsible. Just think what Doctor Bodie will say to me!\n\nBODIE. Are you afraid of her too?\n\nPROBATIONER. Afraid! I should think I am.\n\nDANNY. And so am I.\n\n    (_Before_ MR. BODIE _has time to kick, the terrible one\n    reappears_.)\n\nDR. BODIE. I\u2019m going over to the Home now, Dick. You must come at\nonce, if you are coming.\n\nBODIE (_cowed and getting his coat_). Yes, all right.\n\nDR. BODIE. A great coat on a day like this! Absurd!\n\nBODIE (_remembering what_ CINDERELLA _has told him and pointing\nsternly_). French shoes on roads like these, ridiculous!\n\n    (DR. BODIE _kicks this time\u2014it is evidently a family trait.\n    Delight of_ DANNY.)\n\nDR. BODIE. No. 7, you needn\u2019t grin unless there is a reason! Is\nthere a reason?\n\nDANNY. No, no, Doctor.\n\nDR. BODIE. Fishing rods all right this time, Nurse?\n\nPROBATIONER (_faltering_). I\u2019m so ashamed, Doctor Bodie\u2014there is\none missing.\n\nDR. BODIE. Again! I must ask you, Nurse, to report yourself to the\nMatron.\n\nPROBATIONER (_crushed_). Yes, Doctor Bodie.\n\nDR. BODIE (_observing that_ DANNY _is stealing away unobtrusively_).\nNo. 7!\n\nDANNY (_still backing_). Yes, Doctor.\n\nDR. BODIE. Come here. What is the matter with your right leg? It\nseems stiff.\n\nDANNY (_with the noble resignation of Tommies, of which he has read\nin the papers_). It\u2019s a twinge of the old stiffness come back,\nDoctor. I think there\u2019s a touch of east in the wind. The least\ntouch of east seems to find the hole that bullet made. But I\u2019m not\ncomplaining.\n\nDR. BODIE (_brutally_). No, it is I who am complaining.\n\n    (_She feels his leg professionally._)\n\nGive me that fishing rod.\n\n    (_The long-suffering man unbuttons, and to his evident\n    astonishment produces the missing rod._)\n\nDANNY (_without hope but in character_). Well, I am surprised!\n\nDR. BODIE. You will be more surprised presently. Come along, Dick.\n\n    (_She takes her brother away._)\n\nDANNY (_the magnanimous_). She\u2019s great! Words couldn\u2019t express my\nadmiration for that woman\u2014lady\u2014man\u2014doctor.\n\nPROBATIONER. How mean of you, Danny\u2014to get me into trouble.\n\nDANNY (_in the public school manner_). Sorry. But I\u2019ll have to pay\nfor this. (_Seeing visions._) She has a way of locking one up in\nthe bathroom.\n\nPROBATIONER (_with spirit_). Let us three conspirators combine to\ndefy her. Carried. Proposed, that No. 7, being a male, conveys our\nchallenge to her. Carried.\n\nCINDERELLA (_gleefully_). Go on, Danny.\n\nDANNY (_of the bull-dog breed_). I never could refuse the\nladies. (_He uses the stethescope as a telephone._) Give me the\nConvalescent Home, please. Is that you, Doctor? How are you? We\u2019ve\njust rung up to defy you. Now, now, not another word, or I\u2019ll have\nyou locked up in the bathroom. Wait a mo; there\u2019s a nurse here\nwants to give you a piece of her mind.\n\nPROBATIONER (_with the stethescope_). Is that you, Miss Bodie?\nWhat? No, I have decided not to call you Dr. Bodie any more.\n\n    (_Alas_, DR. BODIE _returns unseen by the window and hears\n    her_.)\n\nPlease to report yourself as in disgrace at once to the Matron.\nThat will do. Good-bye. Run along. Heavens, if she had caught us!\n\nDANNY. It would have meant permanent residence in bathroom for me.\n\n    (_It is then that they see her._)\n\nDR. BODIE (_after an awful pause_). I have come back for my\nstethescope, Nurse.\n\n    (_The_ PROBATIONER _can think of no suitable reply_.)\n\nDANNY (_searching his person_). I don\u2019t think I have it, Doctor.\n\nDR. BODIE. Don\u2019t be a fool, No. 7.\n\nPROBATIONER (_surrendering it_). Here it is, Dr. Bodie, I\u2014I\u2014\n\nDR. BODIE (_charmingly_). Thank you. And, my dear, don\u2019t be always\nDoctor Bodieing me. That, of course, at the Home, and on duty, but\nhere in my house you are my guest. I am Miss Bodie to you here.\nDon\u2019t let me forget that I am a woman. I assure you I value that\nprivilege. (_She lingers over Cinderella\u2019s pillow._) Dear, you\nmust invite Nurse and Danny to tea with you, and all be happy\ntogether. Little Cinderella, if I will do as a substitute, you\nhaven\u2019t altogether lost your Godmother.\n\n    (_She goes, shaking a reproving finger at_ DANNY.)\n\nDANNY. We\u2019re done again!\n\nPROBATIONER (_reduced to tears_). Horrid little toad that I\u2019ve\nbeen. Some one take me out and shoot me.\n\n    (_The_ MAID _comes with tea things_.)\n\nDANNY. Allow me, maiden.\n\nELLEN. Dr. Bodie says I\u2019m to bring two more cups.\n\nDANNY (_whose manner is always that of one who, bathroom or no\nbathroom, feels he is a general favourite_). If you please, child.\n\nPROBATIONER (_as soon as_ ELLEN _has gone_). Dr. Bodie is an angel.\n\nDANNY (_quite surprised that he has not thought of this before_).\nThat\u2019s what she is!\n\nCINDERELLA. Danny, can\u2019t you say something comforting to poor\nNurse.\n\nDANNY (_manfully_). I\u2019m thankful to say I can. Nurse, I\u2019ve often\nhad fits of remorse; and I can assure you that they soon pass away,\nleaving not a mark behind.\n\nPROBATIONER. Dear Dr. Bodie!\n\nDANNY. Exactly. You\u2019ve taken the words out of my mouth. The only\nthing for us to think of henceforth is what to do to please her.\nHer last words to us were to draw up to the tea-table. Are we to\ndisregard the last words of that sublime female?\n\nPROBATIONER (_recovering_). No!\n\n    (_The extra cups having been brought, the company of three\n    settle down to their war-time tea-party, the tray being on_\n    CINDERELLA\u2019S _lap and a guest on each side of the bed_.)\n\nDANNY. Our plain duty is now to attack the victuals so as to become\nstrong in that Wonder\u2019s service. Here\u2019s to dear Dr. Bodie, and may\nshe find plenty to do elsewhere till this party is over.\n\nPROBATIONER (_able to toss her head again_). After all, she put us\nin a false position.\n\nDANNY. That\u2019s true. Down with her!\n\nPROBATIONER. I drink to you, Danny.\n\nDANNY (_gallantly_). And I reply with mine.\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s queer to think I\u2019m being\u2014what\u2019s the word?\u2014hostess.\n\nDANNY. All things are queer ever since the dull old days before the\nwar; and not the unqueerest is that Daniel Duggan, once a plumber,\nis now partaking of currant cake with the Lady Charlotte something!\n\nCINDERELLA (_nearly letting her cup fall_). What?\n\nPROBATIONER. You weren\u2019t supposed to know that.\n\nCINDERELLA. Does he mean you? Are you\u2014?\n\nPROBATIONER. It\u2019s nothing to make a fuss about, Cinderella. How did\nyou find out, Danny?\n\nDANNY. Excuse me, but your haughty manner of wringing out a\ndishcloth betrayed you? My war-worn eyes, of various hues, have had\nthe honour of seeing the Lady Charlotte washing the ward floor. O\nmemorable day! O glorified floor! O blushing dishcloth!\n\nPROBATIONER. That was just a beginning. Some day I hope when I rise\nin the profession to be allowed to wash you, Danny.\n\nDANNY (_bowing grandly_). The pleasure, my lady, will be mutual.\n(_He hums a tune of the moment._)\n\n\u2018And when I tell them that some day washed by her I\u2019ll be\u2014they\u2019ll\nnever believe me\u2019\u2014\n\nPROBATIONER (_with abandon_). \u2018But when I tell them \u2019twas a jolly\ngood thing for me\u2014they\u2019ll all believe me!\u2019\n\nDANNY. And when I tell them\u2014and I certainly mean to tell them\u2014that\none day she\u2019ll walk out with me\u2014\n\n    (_In a spirit of devilry he crooks his arm; she takes it\u2014she\n    walks out with him for a moment._)\n\nPROBATIONER (_coming to_). No. 7, what are we doing!\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s just the war has mixed things up till we forget\nhow different we are.\n\nPROBATIONER (_with a moment of intuition_). Or it has straightened\nthings out so that we know how like we are.\n\n    (_From the garden comes the sound of a gramophone._)\n\nCINDERELLA. David\u2019s a long time in coming.\n\nDANNY. The four-twenty\u2019s not in yet.\n\nCINDERELLA. Yes, it is; I heard the whistle.\n\nDANNY (_sarcastically_). Would you like me to see if he hasn\u2019t lost\nhis way? Those policemen are stupid fellows.\n\nCINDERELLA. None of that, Danny; but I would like fine if you take\na look.\n\nDANNY. Anything to oblige you, though it brings our social to a\nclose. None of these little tea-parties after the war is over, fine\nlady!\n\nPROBATIONER. Oh dear! I\u2019ll often enjoy myself less, Danny.\n\nDANNY. Daniel Duggan will sometimes think of this day when you are\nin your presentation gown and he is on your roof, looking for that\nthere leakage.\n\nPROBATIONER. Oh, Danny, don\u2019t tell me that when I meet you with\nyour bag of tools I\u2019ll be a beast. Surely there will be at least a\nsmile of friendship between us in memory of the old days.\n\nDANNY. I wonder! That\u2019s up to you, my lady. (_But he will be wiser\nif he arranges that it is to be up to himself._)\n\nPROBATIONER (_calling attention to the music_). Listen! No.\n7\u2014to-day is ours.\n\n    (_She impulsively offers herself for the waltz; they dance\n    together._)\n\nDANNY (_when all is over_). Thank you, my lady.\n\n    (_She curtseys and he goes out rather finely. It is not\n    likely that her next partner will be equal to her plumber.\n    The two girls are left alone, both nice girls of about the\n    same age; but the poor one has already lived so long that\n    the other, though there may be decades before her, will\n    never make up on_ CINDERELLA. _It would be grand to see\n    this waif, the moment after death, setting off stoutly on\n    the next adventure._)\n\nCINDERELLA. He is a droll character, Danny! (_Examining herself in\na hand-mirror._) Nurse, would you say my hair is looking right? He\nlikes the cap.\n\nPROBATIONER (_who will soon forget her, but is under the spell at\npresent_). Your David?\n\nCINDERELLA (_on her dignity_). He\u2019s not mine, Nurse.\n\nPROBATIONER. Isn\u2019t he?\n\nCINDERELLA. Hey, hey, hey! Nurse, when he comes you don\u2019t need to\nstay very long.\n\nPROBATIONER (_in the conspiracy_). I won\u2019t.\n\nCINDERELLA (_casually_). He might have things to say to me, you see.\n\nPROBATIONER. Yes, he might.\n\nCINDERELLA (_solemnly_). You and me are both very young, but maybe\nyou understand about men better than I do. You\u2019ve seen him, and\nthis is terrible important. Swear by Almighty God you\u2019re to tell me\nthe truth. Would you say that man loves little children?\n\nPROBATIONER (_touched_). Don\u2019t frighten me, Cinderella; I believe\nhim to be that kind of man. Are you fond of your policeman, dear?\n\nCINDERELLA (_winking_). That\u2019s telling! (_Importantly._) Nurse, did\nyou ever have a love-letter?\n\nPROBATIONER (_gaily_). Not I! Don\u2019t want to; horrid little\nexplosives! But have you\u2014has he\u2014?\n\nCINDERELLA (_becoming larger_). In my poor opinion, if it\u2019s not a\nlove-letter, it\u2019s a very near thing.\n\nPROBATIONER. If I could see the darling little detestable?\n\nCINDERELLA. Oh no, oh no, no, no, no! But I\u2019ll tell you one thing\nas is in it. This\u2014\u2018There are thirty-four policemen sitting in this\nroom, but I would rather have you, my dear.\u2019 What do you think?\nThat\u2019s a fine bit at the end.\n\nPROBATIONER (_sparkling_). Lovely! Go on, Cinderella, fling\nreticence to the winds.\n\nCINDERELLA (_doing so_). Unless I am\u2014very far out\u2014in my judgment of\nmen\u2014that man is infatuate about me!\n\nPROBATIONER (_clapping her hands_). The delicious scoundrel!\nCinderella, be merciless to him! Knife him, you dear! Give him\nbeans!\n\nCINDERELLA (_gurgling_). I ill-treats him most terrible!\n\nPROBATIONER. That\u2019s the way! down with lovers, slit them to\nribbons, stamp on them.\n\nCINDERELLA. Sometimes I\u2014(_she sits up_). Listen!\n\nPROBATIONER (_alarmed_). It isn\u2019t Dr. Bodie, is it?\n\nCINDERELLA. No, it\u2019s _him_.\n\nPROBATIONER. I don\u2019t hear a sound.\n\nCINDERELLA. I can hear him fanning his face with his helmet. He has\ncome in such a hurry. Nurse, you watch me being cruel to him.\n\nPROBATIONER. At him, Cinderella, at him!\n\nDANNY (_flinging open the door_). The Constabulary\u2019s carriage stops\nthe way.\n\n    (_Our_ POLICEMAN _stalks in, wetting his lips as he does so_.)\n\nPROBATIONER (_giving him her hand_). How do you do? You forget, I\ndaresay, that I met you when you were here last; but I remember\n\u2018our policeman.\u2019\n\n    (_He is bashful._)\n\nThere she is.\n\n    (_The wicked invalid is looking the other way._)\n\nPOLICEMAN. A visitor to see you, Jane.\n\nCINDERELLA (_without looking round_). I thought it had a visitor\u2019s\nsound. (_She peeps at the_ PROBATIONER _gleefully_.)\n\nPOLICEMAN (_very wooden_). You don\u2019t ask who it is, Jane?\n\nCINDERELLA. I thought it might be that great big ridiculous\npoliceman.\n\n    (DANNY _laughs, and our_ POLICEMAN _gives him a very stern\n    look_.)\n\nPOLICEMAN (_after reflection_). I\u2019m here again, Jane.\n\nCINDERELLA (_admitting it with a glance_). Perhaps you didn\u2019t ought\nto come so often; it puts them about.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_cleverly_). But does it put you about, Jane?\n\nCINDERELLA. Hey! Hey! (_With a cunning waggle of the hand she\nintimates to the_ NURSE _that she may go_.)\n\nDANNY (_who is not so easily got rid of_). You had best be going\ntoo, Robert. The lady has answered you in the negative.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_lowering_). You make a move there.\n\n    (DANNY, _affecting alarm, follows the_ PROBATIONER.)\n\nCINDERELLA. I like fine to hear you ordering the public about,\nDavid.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_humbly_). I\u2019m very pleased, Jane, if there\u2019s any little\nthing about me that gives you satisfaction.\n\n    (_He puts down a small parcel that he has brought in._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_curious_). What\u2019s in the parcel, David?\n\nPOLICEMAN. That remains to be seen. (_He stands staring at his\ndivinity._)\n\nCINDERELLA (_sneering_). What are you looking at?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Just at you.\n\nCINDERELLA (_in high delight_). Me! There\u2019s little to look at in\nme. You should see the larder at the Home! You\u2019ll have a cup of\nChina tea and some of this cake?\n\nPOLICEMAN. No, Jane, no. (_In a somewhat melancholy voice._) Things\nto eat have very little interest to me now.\n\nCINDERELLA. Oh?\n\nPOLICEMAN. I\u2019ve gone completely off my feed.\n\n    (CINDERELLA _would have liked the_ PROBATIONER _to hear\n    this_.)\n\nCINDERELLA (_artfully_). I wonder how that can be!\n\nPOLICEMAN. Did you get my letter, Jane?\n\nCINDERELLA (_calmly_). I got it\u2014\n\nPOLICEMAN. Did you\u2014did you think it was a peculiar sort of a letter?\n\nCINDERELLA (_mercilessly_). I don\u2019t mind nothing peculiar in it.\n\nPOLICEMAN. There was no word in it that took you aback, was there?\n\nCINDERELLA. Not that I mind of.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_worried_). Maybe you didn\u2019t read it very careful?\n\nCINDERELLA. I may have missed something. What was the word, David?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_in gloom_). Oh, it was just a small affair. It was just\na beginning. I thought, if she stands that she\u2019ll stand more. But\nif you never noticed it\u2014(_He sighs profoundly._)\n\nCINDERELLA. I\u2019ll take another look\u2014\n\nPOLICEMAN (_brightening_). You\u2019ve kept it?\n\nCINDERELLA. I have it here.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I could let you see the word if it\u2019s convenient to you\nto get the letter out of your pocket.\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s not in my pocket.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Is it under the pillow?\n\nCINDERELLA. No.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_puzzled_). Where, then?\n\n    (CINDERELLA, _with charming modesty, takes the letter from\n    her bodice. Her lover is thunderstruck._)\n\nWhat made you think of keeping it there?\n\nCINDERELLA. I didn\u2019t think, David; it just came to me.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_elate_). It\u2019s infall_ay_able! I\u2019ll let you see the word.\n\nCINDERELLA (_smiling at the ridiculous man_). You don\u2019t need to\nbother, David. Fine I know what the word is.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_anxious_). And you like it?\n\nCINDERELLA. If you like it.\n\nPOLICEMAN. That emboldens me tremendous.\n\nCINDERELLA. I don\u2019t like that so much. If there\u2019s one thing I like\nmore than any other thing in the world\u2014\n\nPOLICEMAN (_eager_). Yes?\n\nCINDERELLA. It\u2019s seeing you, David, tremendous bold before all\nother folk, and just in a quake before me.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_astounded_). It\u2019s what I am! And yet there\u2019s something\nbold I must say to you.\n\nCINDERELLA (_faltering genteelly_). Is there?\n\nPOLICEMAN. It\u2019ll be a staggering surprise to you.\n\n    (CINDERELLA _giggles discreetly_.)\n\nI promised the Doctor as I came in not to tire you. (_With some\nawe._) She\u2019s a powerful woman that.\n\nCINDERELLA. If you tire me I\u2019ll hold up my hand just like you do to\nstop the traffic. Go on, David. Just wait a moment. (_She takes off\nhis helmet and holds it to her thin breast._) Here\u2019s a friend of\nmine. Now?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_despairing of himself_). I wish I was a man in a\nbook. It\u2019s pretty the way they say it; and if ever there was a\nwoman that deserved to have it said pretty to her it\u2019s you. I\u2019ve\nbeen reading the books. There was one chap that could speak six\nlanguages. Jane, I wish I could say it to you in six languages, one\ndown and another come up, till you had to take me in the end.\n\nCINDERELLA. To take you?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_in woe_). Now I\u2019ve gone and said it in the poorest,\nsilliest way! Did you hold up your hand to stop me, Jane?\n\nCINDERELLA. No.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_encouraged_). But I\u2019ve said it. Will you, Jane?\n\nCINDERELLA (_doggedly_). Will I what?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Do you not see what I\u2019m driving at?\n\nCINDERELLA. Fine I see what you\u2019re driving at.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Then won\u2019t you help me out?\n\nCINDERELLA. No.\n\nPOLICEMAN. If you could just give me a shove.\n\nCINDERELLA (_sympathetically_). Try Badgery.\n\nPOLICEMAN (_brightening_). Have you forgotten that pool in Badgery\nWater where the half-pounder used\u2014No, you never was there! Jane,\nthe heart of me is crying out to walk with you by Badgery Water.\n\nCINDERELLA. That\u2019s better!\n\nPOLICEMAN. I would never think of comparing Mrs. Bodie to you. For\nmy part I think nothing of uppers. Feet for me.\n\n    (_She gives him her hand to hold._)\n\nMy dear!\n\nCINDERELLA. You said _that_ was only a beginning!\n\nPOLICEMAN. My dearest!\n\nCINDERELLA (_glistening_). I\u2019m not feeling none tired, David.\n\nPOLICEMAN. My pretty!\n\nCINDERELLA. Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!\n\nPOLICEMAN. I don\u2019t set up to be a prince, Jane; but I love you in a\nprincely way, and if you would marry me, you wonder, I\u2019ll be a true\nman to you till death us do part. Come on, Cinders. (_Pause._) It\u2019s\nthe only chance that belt of mine has.\n\nCINDERELLA. No, no, I haven\u2019t took you yet! There\u2019s a thing you\ncould do for me, that would gratify me tremendous.\n\nPOLICEMAN. It\u2019s done.\n\nCINDERELLA. I want you to let me have the satisfaction, David, of\nhaving refused you once.\n\nPOLICEMAN. Willingly; but what for?\n\nCINDERELLA. I couldn\u2019t say. Just because I\u2019m a woman. Mind you, I\ndaresay I\u2019ll cast it up at you in the future.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I\u2019ll risk that. Will you be my princess, Jane?\n\nCINDERELLA. You promise to ask again? At once?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Yes.\n\nCINDERELLA. Say\u2014I do.\n\nPOLICEMAN. I do.\n\nCINDERELLA (_firmly_). It\u2019s a honour you do me, policeman, to which\nI am not distasteful. But I don\u2019t care for you in that way, so let\nthere be no more on the subject. (_Anxiously._) Quick, David!\n\nPOLICEMAN. For the second time, will you marry me, Jane?\n\nCINDERELLA (_who has been thinking out the answer for several\ndays_). David, I love thee, even as the stars shining on the\nparched earth, even as the flowers opening their petals to the sun;\neven as mighty ocean with its billows; even so do I love thee,\nDavid. (_She nestles her head on his shoulder._)\n\nPOLICEMAN. If only I could have said it like that!\n\nCINDERELLA (_happily_). That\u2019s just a bit I was keeping handy.\n(_Almost in a whisper._) David, do you think I could have a\nengagement ring?\n\nPOLICEMAN (_squaring his shoulders_). As to that, Jane, first tell\nme frankly, do you think the Police Force is romantical?\n\nCINDERELLA. They\u2019re brave and strong, but\u2014\n\nPOLICEMAN. The general verdict is no. And yet a more romantical\nbody of men do not exist. I have been brooding over this question\nof engagement rings, and I consider them unromantical affairs! (_He\nwalks toward his parcel._)\n\nCINDERELLA. David, what\u2019s in that parcel?\n\nPOLICEMAN. Humbly hoping you would have me, Jane, I have had\nsomething special made for you\u2014\n\nCINDERELLA (_thrilling_). Oh, David, what is it?\n\nPOLICEMAN. It\u2019s a policeman\u2019s idea of an engagement ring\u2014\n\nCINDERELLA. Quick! Quick!\n\nPOLICEMAN. \u2014for my amazing romantical mind said to me that, instead\nof popping a ring on the finger of his dear, a true lover should\npop a pair of glass slippers upon her darling feet!\n\nCINDERELLA. David, you\u2019re a poet!\n\nPOLICEMAN (_not denying it_). It\u2019s what you\u2019ve made me\u2014and proud I\nwould be if, for the honour of the Force, I set this new fashion in\nengagement rings. (_He reveals the glass slippers._)\n\n    (CINDERELLA _holds out her hands for the little doves_.)\n\nThey\u2019re not for hands. (_He uncovers her feet._)\n\nCINDERELLA. They\u2019re terrible small! Maybe they\u2019ll not go on!\n\n    (_They go on._)\n\nCINDERELLA. They\u2019re like two kisses.\n\nPOLICEMAN. More like two love-letters.\n\nCINDERELLA. No, David, no,\u2014kisses.\n\nPOLICEMAN. We won\u2019t quarrel about it, Cinders; but at the same\ntime.... However!\n\n    (_He presses her face to him for a moment so that he\n    may not see its transparency._ DR. BODIE _has told him\n    something_.)\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE\n\n\n  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.\n\n  Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been\n  corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within\n  the text and consultation of external sources.\n\n  Some hyphens in words have been silently removed, some added,\n  when a predominant preference was found in the original book.\n\n  Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the\n  text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.\n\n  Pg  7: \u2018in the passage.\u2019 replaced by \u2018in the passage.)\u2019.\n\n  Pg 30: \u2018He stops short\u2019 replaced by \u2018(He stops short\u2019.","title":"A kiss for Cinderella: A comedy","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":22047}