Chapter III

_The retreat in which_ CINDERELLA _is to be found two months later has been described to us by our policeman with becoming awe. It seems to be a very pleasant house near the sea, and possibly in pre-war days people were at ease in it. None of that, says the policeman emphatically, with_ DR. BODIE _in charge. He could wink discreetly at_ DR. BODIE _in absence, but was prepared to say on oath that no one ever winked at her when she was present. In the old days he had been more than a passive observer of the suffragette in action, had even been bitten by them in the way of business; had not then gone into the question of their suitability for the vote, but liked the pluck of them; had no objection to his feelings on the woman movement being summed up in this way, that he had vaguely disapproved of their object, but had admired their methods. After knowing_ DR. BODIE _he must admit that his views about their object had undergone a change; was now a whole-hearted supporter, felt in his bones that_ DR. BODIE _was born to command: astonishing thing about her that she did it so natural-like. She was not in the least mannish or bullying; she was a very ladylike sort of person, a bit careful about the doing of her hair, and the set of her hat, and she had a soft voice, though what you might call an arbitrary manner. Very noticeable the way she fixed you with her steely eye. In appearance she was very like her room at the retreat, or the room was very like her; everything in cruel good order, as you might say; an extraordinarily decorous writing table near the centre, the sort of table against which you instinctively stood and waited to make your deposition; the friendliest thing in the room (to a policeman) was the book-cases with wire doors, because the books looked through the wires at you in a homely way like prisoners. It was a sunny room at times, but this did not take away from its likeness to the doctor, who could also smile on occasion._

_Into this room_ MR. BODIE _is shown on a summer afternoon by a maid with no nonsense about her in working hours._

MAID (_who knows that male visitors should be impressed at once_). This way, sir; I shall see whether Dr. Bodie is disengaged.

BODIE (_doggedly_). _Miss_ Bodie.

MAID (_with firm sweetness_). Dr. Bodie, sir. What name shall I say?

BODIE (_wincing_). Mr. Bodie. Her brother.

MAID (_unmoved_). I shall tell Dr. Bodie, sir.

BODIE (_a fighter to the last_). Miss Bodie.

MAID. Dr. Bodie, sir.

(_He is surveying the room with manly disapproval when
his sister appears and greets him. She is all that the
policeman has said of her, and more; if we did not have a
heroine already we would choose_ DR. BODIE. _At the same
time it cannot be denied that she is enough to make any
brother wince. For instance, immediately she has passed
him the time of day, she seems to be considering his case.
Perhaps this is because she has caught him frowning at her
stethescope. There is certainly a twinkle somewhere about
her face. Before he can step back indignantly she raises
one of his eyelids and comes to a conclusion._)

DR. BODIE. Oh dear! Well, Dick, it’s entirely your own fault.

(MR. BODIE _has a curious trick of kicking backwards with
one foot when people take liberties with him, and a liberty
has been taken with him now._)

Kick away Dick, but you needn’t pretend that you have no faith in me as a medical man; for when you are really ill you always take the first train down here. In your heart I am the only doctor you believe in.

BODIE. Stuff, Nellie.

DR. BODIE. Then why did you put Cinderella under my care?

BODIE. I didn’t know where else to send her when she was discharged from the hospital. Had to give her a chance of picking up. (_Thawing._) It was good of you to give her board and lodging.

DR. BODIE (_sitting down to her day-book_). Not at all. I’ll send you in a whacking bill for her presently.

BODIE (_kicking_). Well, I’ve come all this way to see her. How is she getting on, Nellie?

DR. BODIE. She is in the garden. I daresay you can see her from the window.

BODIE. I see some men only; I believe they are wounded Tommies.

DR. BODIE. Yes. There’s a Convalescent Home down here. That is part of my job. Do the men look as if they were gathering round anything?

BODIE. They do.

DR. BODIE. Ah! Then that is Cinderella. She is now bossing the British Army, Dick.

BODIE. I might have guessed it. (_Chuckling._) Does she charge a penny?

DR. BODIE. Not to the military.

BODIE. Nellie, I have had some inquiries made lately about her parents.

DR. BODIE. She doesn’t know much about them herself.

BODIE. No, and we needn’t tell her this. Her mother—ah well, poor soul!—and the father was a very bad egg. And from that soil, Nellie, this flower has sprung. Nobody to tend it. Can’t you see little Cinderella with her watering-can carefully bringing up herself. I wish I could paint that picture.

(_Perhaps_ DR. BODIE _sees the picture even more clearly
than he does_.)

I see her now. She’s on a bed, Nellie.

DR. BODIE. Yes. That is for convenience, for wheeling her about.

BODIE (_waving_). She sees me. And how is she, Nell?

DR. BODIE. She is always bright—perhaps too bright.

BODIE. Can’t be too bright.

DR. BODIE (_controlling her feelings_). A girl who is found frozen in the street by a policeman and taken to a London Hospital, where she has pneumonia—poor little waif! You know, she is very frail, Dick.

BODIE. I know; but she will get better, won’t she?

(_He has said it confidently, but his sister looks at him
and turns away. He is startled._)

Come, Nellie, she is going to get better, isn’t she?

DR. BODIE (_shaking her head_). There isn’t much chance, Dick. Her body and soul have had to do too long without the little things they needed.

BODIE. She shall have them now, I promise. What are they?

DR. BODIE. First of all, just food. She has been half starved all her life. And then human affection. She has been starved of that also; she who has such a genius for it.

(_She goes to the window and calls._)

DR. BODIE. No. 7, bring Cinderella in here.

(CINDERELLA _in her bed is wheeled in through the window by
the soldier_, DANNY. _She is wearing a probationer’s cap
and dressing jacket. The bed is a simple iron one, small
and low, of the kind that was so common in war hospitals;
it is on tiny pneumatic wheels with ball bearings for easy
propulsion. Though frail_, CINDERELLA _is full of glee_.)

BODIE. Hurray, Cinderella!

CINDERELLA. Hurray! Isn’t it lovely. I’m glad you’ve seen me in my carriage. When I saw there was visitor I thought at first it might be David.

BODIE. David? I didn’t know you.... Is he a relative?

(CINDERELLA _finds this extremely funny—so does_ DANNY;
_even the_ DOCTOR _is discreetly amused_.)

CINDERELLA (_to Danny_). Tell the men that! He’s not exactly a relative. (_She pulls Mr. Bodie down by the lapels of his coat._) He’s just that great big ridiculous policeman!

BODIE. Oho! Our policeman again! Does he come all this way to see you?

CINDERELLA (_her shoulders rising in pride_). Twice already; and he’s coming again to-day! Mr. Bodie, get the Doctor to take you over the Convalescent Home. There’s a field with cows in it, a whole litter of them! And the larder? There’s barrel upon barrel full of eggs and sawdust, and Danny says—this is Danny—

(DANNY, _who is slightly lame and is in hospital blue,
comes to attention_.)

Danny says the hens lay in the barrels so as to save time in packing.

(DANNY _finds the severe eye of the Doctor upon him and is
abashed_.)

Mr. Bodie, look! (_displaying her cap_). The Doctor lets me wear it; it makes me half a nurse, a kind of nurse’s help. I make bandages, and they’re took away in glass bottles and sterilized. Mr. Bodie, as sure as death I’m doing something for my country.

DR. BODIE. Cinderella, you’re talking too much.

CINDERELLA (_subsiding meekly_). Yes, Doctor.

DR. BODIE. Dick, I’m going over to the hospital presently. If you like to come with me—_really_ want to see it—no affected interest—

BODIE. Thanks, I should like it—Dr. Bodie.

DR. BODIE (_to Danny_). You’re not required any more, No. 7.

(DANNY _is going thankfully, but she suddenly pulls him
forward to examine his face_.)

No. 7, you are wearing that brown eye again.

DANNY (_who has a glass eye_). Yes, Doctor—you see it’s like this. First they sent me a brown eye. Then some meddlesome person finds out my natural eye is blue. So then they sends me a blue eye.

DOCTOR. Yes, where is it?

DANNY. It was a beautiful eye, Doctor—but I had taken a fancy to little browny. And I have a young lady; so I took the liberty of having the blue eye made up into a brooch and I sent it to her.

DR. BODIE (_without moving a muscle_). I shall report you.

BODIE (_when the martinet and Danny have gone_). Are you afraid of her, Cinderella? I am.

CINDERELLA. No! She sometimes dashes me, but she is a fearful kind lady. (_She pulls him down again for further important revelations._) She’s very particular about her feet.

BODIE (_staggered_). Is she! In a feminine way?

CINDERELLA. Yes.

BODIE. Hurray! Then I have her. The Achilles Heel! (_He is once more jerked down._)

CINDERELLA. I have a spring bed.

BODIE. Ah!

CINDERELLA (_in some awe_). The first time I woke in hospital, an angel with streamers was standing there holding a tray in her hand, and on the tray was a boiled egg. Then I thought it was the egg you get the day before you die.

BODIE. What egg is that?

CINDERELLA (_who in the course of a troubled life has acquired much miscellaneous information_). In the Workhouse you always get an egg to your tea the day before you die. (_She whispers._) I know now I’m not the real Cinderella.

BODIE (_taking her hand_). How did you find out?

CINDERELLA (_gravely_). It’s come to me. The more I eat the clearer I see things. I think it was just an idea of mine; being lonely-like I needed to have something to hang on to.

BODIE. That was it. Are you sorry you’re not the other one?

CINDERELLA. I’m glad to be just myself. It’s a pity though about the glass slippers. That’s a lovely idea.

BODIE. Yes.

CINDERELLA. Tell me about _Them_.

BODIE. The children? They’re still with me, of course. I’m keeping my promise, and they will be with me till you are able to take care of them again. I have them a great deal in the studio in the day-time.

CINDERELLA (_cogitating_). I wonder if that’s wise.

BODIE. Oh, they don’t disturb me much.

CINDERELLA. I was meaning perhaps the smell of the paint would be bad for them.

BODIE. I see! Of course I could give up painting!

CINDERELLA (_innocently_). I think that would be safest.

(MR. BODIE _kicks_.)

Are you kind to Gretchen?

BODIE. I hope so. I feel it’s my duty.

CINDERELLA (_with a sinking_). It’ll not be no use for Gretchen if that’s how you do it. I’m sure I should get up. (_She attempts to rise._)

BODIE. Now, now!

CINDERELLA. Are you fond of her, especially when she’s bad?

BODIE (_hurriedly_). Yes, I am, I am! But she’s never bad! they are all good, they are like angels.

CINDERELLA (_despairing_). Then they’re cheating you. Where’s my boots?

BODIE. Quiet! That’s all right.

(_A pretty and not very competent_ PROBATIONER _comes in at
the window, carrying fishing rods, followed by_ DANNY _with
croquet mallets and balls_.)

PROBATIONER (_laden_). I want to shake hands with you, Mr. Bodie, but you see how I am placed.

CINDERELLA. Do your pretty bow at any rate.

(_The attractive girl does her pretty bow to_ MR. BODIE.
_It is one of the few things she does well, and will
probably by and by bring her into some safe matrimonial
harbour; but in her country’s great hour she is of less
value to it than a ball of twine. She is of a nice nature
and would like to be of use, but things slip through her
hands as through her mind; she cannot even carry a few
lengths of fishing rods without an appeal to heaven. She is
counting the pieces now with puckered brow._)

DANNY (_one of the few men in the world who can carry four croquet balls in two hands_). You see, sir, there is a pond in the garden, and we have a fishing competition; and as there are not enough rods the men hides them so as to be sure of having a rod next day.

PROBATIONER. It is very unfair to the others, Danny.

DANNY (_warmly_). That’s what I say, Nurse.

CINDERELLA. The Matron found a rod the other morning hidden beneath one of the men’s mattresses.

PROBATIONER. The odd thing is how he could have got it to the house without being seen. (_Her counting of the pieces ends in her discomfiture._)

BODIE. Anything wrong?

PROBATIONER. There are only nine pieces. A whole rod is missing!

CINDERELLA (_trembling for her_). Nurse, I’m so sorry!

BODIE. After all, it’s a trivial matter, isn’t it?

PROBATIONER (_her beautiful empty eyes filling_). Trivial! I’m responsible. Just think what Doctor Bodie will say to me!

BODIE. Are you afraid of her too?

PROBATIONER. Afraid! I should think I am.

DANNY. And so am I.

(_Before_ MR. BODIE _has time to kick, the terrible one
reappears_.)

DR. BODIE. I’m going over to the Home now, Dick. You must come at once, if you are coming.

BODIE (_cowed and getting his coat_). Yes, all right.

DR. BODIE. A great coat on a day like this! Absurd!

BODIE (_remembering what_ CINDERELLA _has told him and pointing sternly_). French shoes on roads like these, ridiculous!

(DR. BODIE _kicks this time—it is evidently a family trait.
Delight of_ DANNY.)

DR. BODIE. No. 7, you needn’t grin unless there is a reason! Is there a reason?

DANNY. No, no, Doctor.

DR. BODIE. Fishing rods all right this time, Nurse?

PROBATIONER (_faltering_). I’m so ashamed, Doctor Bodie—there is one missing.

DR. BODIE. Again! I must ask you, Nurse, to report yourself to the Matron.

PROBATIONER (_crushed_). Yes, Doctor Bodie.

DR. BODIE (_observing that_ DANNY _is stealing away unobtrusively_). No. 7!

DANNY (_still backing_). Yes, Doctor.

DR. BODIE. Come here. What is the matter with your right leg? It seems stiff.

DANNY (_with the noble resignation of Tommies, of which he has read in the papers_). It’s a twinge of the old stiffness come back, Doctor. I think there’s a touch of east in the wind. The least touch of east seems to find the hole that bullet made. But I’m not complaining.

DR. BODIE (_brutally_). No, it is I who am complaining.

(_She feels his leg professionally._)

Give me that fishing rod.

(_The long-suffering man unbuttons, and to his evident
astonishment produces the missing rod._)

DANNY (_without hope but in character_). Well, I am surprised!

DR. BODIE. You will be more surprised presently. Come along, Dick.

(_She takes her brother away._)

DANNY (_the magnanimous_). She’s great! Words couldn’t express my admiration for that woman—lady—man—doctor.

PROBATIONER. How mean of you, Danny—to get me into trouble.

DANNY (_in the public school manner_). Sorry. But I’ll have to pay for this. (_Seeing visions._) She has a way of locking one up in the bathroom.

PROBATIONER (_with spirit_). Let us three conspirators combine to defy her. Carried. Proposed, that No. 7, being a male, conveys our challenge to her. Carried.

CINDERELLA (_gleefully_). Go on, Danny.

DANNY (_of the bull-dog breed_). I never could refuse the ladies. (_He uses the stethescope as a telephone._) Give me the Convalescent Home, please. Is that you, Doctor? How are you? We’ve just rung up to defy you. Now, now, not another word, or I’ll have you locked up in the bathroom. Wait a mo; there’s a nurse here wants to give you a piece of her mind.

PROBATIONER (_with the stethescope_). Is that you, Miss Bodie? What? No, I have decided not to call you Dr. Bodie any more.

(_Alas_, DR. BODIE _returns unseen by the window and hears
her_.)

Please to report yourself as in disgrace at once to the Matron. That will do. Good-bye. Run along. Heavens, if she had caught us!

DANNY. It would have meant permanent residence in bathroom for me.

(_It is then that they see her._)

DR. BODIE (_after an awful pause_). I have come back for my stethescope, Nurse.

(_The_ PROBATIONER _can think of no suitable reply_.)

DANNY (_searching his person_). I don’t think I have it, Doctor.

DR. BODIE. Don’t be a fool, No. 7.

PROBATIONER (_surrendering it_). Here it is, Dr. Bodie, I—I—

DR. BODIE (_charmingly_). Thank you. And, my dear, don’t be always Doctor Bodieing me. That, of course, at the Home, and on duty, but here in my house you are my guest. I am Miss Bodie to you here. Don’t let me forget that I am a woman. I assure you I value that privilege. (_She lingers over Cinderella’s pillow._) Dear, you must invite Nurse and Danny to tea with you, and all be happy together. Little Cinderella, if I will do as a substitute, you haven’t altogether lost your Godmother.

(_She goes, shaking a reproving finger at_ DANNY.)

DANNY. We’re done again!

PROBATIONER (_reduced to tears_). Horrid little toad that I’ve been. Some one take me out and shoot me.

(_The_ MAID _comes with tea things_.)

DANNY. Allow me, maiden.

ELLEN. Dr. Bodie says I’m to bring two more cups.

DANNY (_whose manner is always that of one who, bathroom or no bathroom, feels he is a general favourite_). If you please, child.

PROBATIONER (_as soon as_ ELLEN _has gone_). Dr. Bodie is an angel.

DANNY (_quite surprised that he has not thought of this before_). That’s what she is!

CINDERELLA. Danny, can’t you say something comforting to poor Nurse.

DANNY (_manfully_). I’m thankful to say I can. Nurse, I’ve often had fits of remorse; and I can assure you that they soon pass away, leaving not a mark behind.

PROBATIONER. Dear Dr. Bodie!

DANNY. Exactly. You’ve taken the words out of my mouth. The only thing for us to think of henceforth is what to do to please her. Her last words to us were to draw up to the tea-table. Are we to disregard the last words of that sublime female?

PROBATIONER (_recovering_). No!

(_The extra cups having been brought, the company of three
settle down to their war-time tea-party, the tray being on_
CINDERELLA’S _lap and a guest on each side of the bed_.)

DANNY. Our plain duty is now to attack the victuals so as to become strong in that Wonder’s service. Here’s to dear Dr. Bodie, and may she find plenty to do elsewhere till this party is over.

PROBATIONER (_able to toss her head again_). After all, she put us in a false position.

DANNY. That’s true. Down with her!

PROBATIONER. I drink to you, Danny.

DANNY (_gallantly_). And I reply with mine.

CINDERELLA. It’s queer to think I’m being—what’s the word?—hostess.

DANNY. All things are queer ever since the dull old days before the war; and not the unqueerest is that Daniel Duggan, once a plumber, is now partaking of currant cake with the Lady Charlotte something!

CINDERELLA (_nearly letting her cup fall_). What?

PROBATIONER. You weren’t supposed to know that.

CINDERELLA. Does he mean you? Are you—?

PROBATIONER. It’s nothing to make a fuss about, Cinderella. How did you find out, Danny?

DANNY. Excuse me, but your haughty manner of wringing out a dishcloth betrayed you? My war-worn eyes, of various hues, have had the honour of seeing the Lady Charlotte washing the ward floor. O memorable day! O glorified floor! O blushing dishcloth!

PROBATIONER. That was just a beginning. Some day I hope when I rise in the profession to be allowed to wash you, Danny.

DANNY (_bowing grandly_). The pleasure, my lady, will be mutual. (_He hums a tune of the moment._)

‘And when I tell them that some day washed by her I’ll be—they’ll never believe me’—

PROBATIONER (_with abandon_). ‘But when I tell them ’twas a jolly good thing for me—they’ll all believe me!’

DANNY. And when I tell them—and I certainly mean to tell them—that one day she’ll walk out with me—

(_In a spirit of devilry he crooks his arm; she takes it—she
walks out with him for a moment._)

PROBATIONER (_coming to_). No. 7, what are we doing!

CINDERELLA. It’s just the war has mixed things up till we forget how different we are.

PROBATIONER (_with a moment of intuition_). Or it has straightened things out so that we know how like we are.

(_From the garden comes the sound of a gramophone._)

CINDERELLA. David’s a long time in coming.

DANNY. The four-twenty’s not in yet.

CINDERELLA. Yes, it is; I heard the whistle.

DANNY (_sarcastically_). Would you like me to see if he hasn’t lost his way? Those policemen are stupid fellows.

CINDERELLA. None of that, Danny; but I would like fine if you take a look.

DANNY. Anything to oblige you, though it brings our social to a close. None of these little tea-parties after the war is over, fine lady!

PROBATIONER. Oh dear! I’ll often enjoy myself less, Danny.

DANNY. Daniel Duggan will sometimes think of this day when you are in your presentation gown and he is on your roof, looking for that there leakage.

PROBATIONER. Oh, Danny, don’t tell me that when I meet you with your bag of tools I’ll be a beast. Surely there will be at least a smile of friendship between us in memory of the old days.

DANNY. I wonder! That’s up to you, my lady. (_But he will be wiser if he arranges that it is to be up to himself._)

PROBATIONER (_calling attention to the music_). Listen! No. 7—to-day is ours.

(_She impulsively offers herself for the waltz; they dance
together._)

DANNY (_when all is over_). Thank you, my lady.

(_She curtseys and he goes out rather finely. It is not
likely that her next partner will be equal to her plumber.
The two girls are left alone, both nice girls of about the
same age; but the poor one has already lived so long that
the other, though there may be decades before her, will
never make up on_ CINDERELLA. _It would be grand to see
this waif, the moment after death, setting off stoutly on
the next adventure._)

CINDERELLA. He is a droll character, Danny! (_Examining herself in a hand-mirror._) Nurse, would you say my hair is looking right? He likes the cap.

PROBATIONER (_who will soon forget her, but is under the spell at present_). Your David?

CINDERELLA (_on her dignity_). He’s not mine, Nurse.

PROBATIONER. Isn’t he?

CINDERELLA. Hey, hey, hey! Nurse, when he comes you don’t need to stay very long.

PROBATIONER (_in the conspiracy_). I won’t.

CINDERELLA (_casually_). He might have things to say to me, you see.

PROBATIONER. Yes, he might.

CINDERELLA (_solemnly_). You and me are both very young, but maybe you understand about men better than I do. You’ve seen him, and this is terrible important. Swear by Almighty God you’re to tell me the truth. Would you say that man loves little children?

PROBATIONER (_touched_). Don’t frighten me, Cinderella; I believe him to be that kind of man. Are you fond of your policeman, dear?

CINDERELLA (_winking_). That’s telling! (_Importantly._) Nurse, did you ever have a love-letter?

PROBATIONER (_gaily_). Not I! Don’t want to; horrid little explosives! But have you—has he—?

CINDERELLA (_becoming larger_). In my poor opinion, if it’s not a love-letter, it’s a very near thing.

PROBATIONER. If I could see the darling little detestable?

CINDERELLA. Oh no, oh no, no, no, no! But I’ll tell you one thing as is in it. This—‘There are thirty-four policemen sitting in this room, but I would rather have you, my dear.’ What do you think? That’s a fine bit at the end.

PROBATIONER (_sparkling_). Lovely! Go on, Cinderella, fling reticence to the winds.

CINDERELLA (_doing so_). Unless I am—very far out—in my judgment of men—that man is infatuate about me!

PROBATIONER (_clapping her hands_). The delicious scoundrel! Cinderella, be merciless to him! Knife him, you dear! Give him beans!

CINDERELLA (_gurgling_). I ill-treats him most terrible!

PROBATIONER. That’s the way! down with lovers, slit them to ribbons, stamp on them.

CINDERELLA. Sometimes I—(_she sits up_). Listen!

PROBATIONER (_alarmed_). It isn’t Dr. Bodie, is it?

CINDERELLA. No, it’s _him_.

PROBATIONER. I don’t hear a sound.

CINDERELLA. I can hear him fanning his face with his helmet. He has come in such a hurry. Nurse, you watch me being cruel to him.

PROBATIONER. At him, Cinderella, at him!

DANNY (_flinging open the door_). The Constabulary’s carriage stops the way.

(_Our_ POLICEMAN _stalks in, wetting his lips as he does so_.)

PROBATIONER (_giving him her hand_). How do you do? You forget, I daresay, that I met you when you were here last; but I remember ‘our policeman.’

(_He is bashful._)

There she is.

(_The wicked invalid is looking the other way._)

POLICEMAN. A visitor to see you, Jane.

CINDERELLA (_without looking round_). I thought it had a visitor’s sound. (_She peeps at the_ PROBATIONER _gleefully_.)

POLICEMAN (_very wooden_). You don’t ask who it is, Jane?

CINDERELLA. I thought it might be that great big ridiculous policeman.

(DANNY _laughs, and our_ POLICEMAN _gives him a very stern
look_.)

POLICEMAN (_after reflection_). I’m here again, Jane.

CINDERELLA (_admitting it with a glance_). Perhaps you didn’t ought to come so often; it puts them about.

POLICEMAN (_cleverly_). But does it put you about, Jane?

CINDERELLA. Hey! Hey! (_With a cunning waggle of the hand she intimates to the_ NURSE _that she may go_.)

DANNY (_who is not so easily got rid of_). You had best be going too, Robert. The lady has answered you in the negative.

POLICEMAN (_lowering_). You make a move there.

(DANNY, _affecting alarm, follows the_ PROBATIONER.)

CINDERELLA. I like fine to hear you ordering the public about, David.

POLICEMAN (_humbly_). I’m very pleased, Jane, if there’s any little thing about me that gives you satisfaction.

(_He puts down a small parcel that he has brought in._)

CINDERELLA (_curious_). What’s in the parcel, David?

POLICEMAN. That remains to be seen. (_He stands staring at his divinity._)

CINDERELLA (_sneering_). What are you looking at?

POLICEMAN. Just at you.

CINDERELLA (_in high delight_). Me! There’s little to look at in me. You should see the larder at the Home! You’ll have a cup of China tea and some of this cake?

POLICEMAN. No, Jane, no. (_In a somewhat melancholy voice._) Things to eat have very little interest to me now.

CINDERELLA. Oh?

POLICEMAN. I’ve gone completely off my feed.

(CINDERELLA _would have liked the_ PROBATIONER _to hear
this_.)

CINDERELLA (_artfully_). I wonder how that can be!

POLICEMAN. Did you get my letter, Jane?

CINDERELLA (_calmly_). I got it—

POLICEMAN. Did you—did you think it was a peculiar sort of a letter?

CINDERELLA (_mercilessly_). I don’t mind nothing peculiar in it.

POLICEMAN. There was no word in it that took you aback, was there?

CINDERELLA. Not that I mind of.

POLICEMAN (_worried_). Maybe you didn’t read it very careful?

CINDERELLA. I may have missed something. What was the word, David?

POLICEMAN (_in gloom_). Oh, it was just a small affair. It was just a beginning. I thought, if she stands that she’ll stand more. But if you never noticed it—(_He sighs profoundly._)

CINDERELLA. I’ll take another look—

POLICEMAN (_brightening_). You’ve kept it?

CINDERELLA. I have it here.

POLICEMAN. I could let you see the word if it’s convenient to you to get the letter out of your pocket.

CINDERELLA. It’s not in my pocket.

POLICEMAN. Is it under the pillow?

CINDERELLA. No.

POLICEMAN (_puzzled_). Where, then?

(CINDERELLA, _with charming modesty, takes the letter from
her bodice. Her lover is thunderstruck._)

What made you think of keeping it there?

CINDERELLA. I didn’t think, David; it just came to me.

POLICEMAN (_elate_). It’s infall_ay_able! I’ll let you see the word.

CINDERELLA (_smiling at the ridiculous man_). You don’t need to bother, David. Fine I know what the word is.

POLICEMAN (_anxious_). And you like it?

CINDERELLA. If you like it.

POLICEMAN. That emboldens me tremendous.

CINDERELLA. I don’t like that so much. If there’s one thing I like more than any other thing in the world—

POLICEMAN (_eager_). Yes?

CINDERELLA. It’s seeing you, David, tremendous bold before all other folk, and just in a quake before me.

POLICEMAN (_astounded_). It’s what I am! And yet there’s something bold I must say to you.

CINDERELLA (_faltering genteelly_). Is there?

POLICEMAN. It’ll be a staggering surprise to you.

(CINDERELLA _giggles discreetly_.)

I promised the Doctor as I came in not to tire you. (_With some awe._) She’s a powerful woman that.

CINDERELLA. If you tire me I’ll hold up my hand just like you do to stop the traffic. Go on, David. Just wait a moment. (_She takes off his helmet and holds it to her thin breast._) Here’s a friend of mine. Now?

POLICEMAN (_despairing of himself_). I wish I was a man in a book. It’s pretty the way they say it; and if ever there was a woman that deserved to have it said pretty to her it’s you. I’ve been reading the books. There was one chap that could speak six languages. Jane, I wish I could say it to you in six languages, one down and another come up, till you had to take me in the end.

CINDERELLA. To take you?

POLICEMAN (_in woe_). Now I’ve gone and said it in the poorest, silliest way! Did you hold up your hand to stop me, Jane?

CINDERELLA. No.

POLICEMAN (_encouraged_). But I’ve said it. Will you, Jane?

CINDERELLA (_doggedly_). Will I what?

POLICEMAN. Do you not see what I’m driving at?

CINDERELLA. Fine I see what you’re driving at.

POLICEMAN. Then won’t you help me out?

CINDERELLA. No.

POLICEMAN. If you could just give me a shove.

CINDERELLA (_sympathetically_). Try Badgery.

POLICEMAN (_brightening_). Have you forgotten that pool in Badgery Water where the half-pounder used—No, you never was there! Jane, the heart of me is crying out to walk with you by Badgery Water.

CINDERELLA. That’s better!

POLICEMAN. I would never think of comparing Mrs. Bodie to you. For my part I think nothing of uppers. Feet for me.

(_She gives him her hand to hold._)

My dear!

CINDERELLA. You said _that_ was only a beginning!

POLICEMAN. My dearest!

CINDERELLA (_glistening_). I’m not feeling none tired, David.

POLICEMAN. My pretty!

CINDERELLA. Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

POLICEMAN. I don’t set up to be a prince, Jane; but I love you in a princely way, and if you would marry me, you wonder, I’ll be a true man to you till death us do part. Come on, Cinders. (_Pause._) It’s the only chance that belt of mine has.

CINDERELLA. No, no, I haven’t took you yet! There’s a thing you could do for me, that would gratify me tremendous.

POLICEMAN. It’s done.

CINDERELLA. I want you to let me have the satisfaction, David, of having refused you once.

POLICEMAN. Willingly; but what for?

CINDERELLA. I couldn’t say. Just because I’m a woman. Mind you, I daresay I’ll cast it up at you in the future.

POLICEMAN. I’ll risk that. Will you be my princess, Jane?

CINDERELLA. You promise to ask again? At once?

POLICEMAN. Yes.

CINDERELLA. Say—I do.

POLICEMAN. I do.

CINDERELLA (_firmly_). It’s a honour you do me, policeman, to which I am not distasteful. But I don’t care for you in that way, so let there be no more on the subject. (_Anxiously._) Quick, David!

POLICEMAN. For the second time, will you marry me, Jane?

CINDERELLA (_who has been thinking out the answer for several days_). David, I love thee, even as the stars shining on the parched earth, even as the flowers opening their petals to the sun; even as mighty ocean with its billows; even so do I love thee, David. (_She nestles her head on his shoulder._)

POLICEMAN. If only I could have said it like that!

CINDERELLA (_happily_). That’s just a bit I was keeping handy. (_Almost in a whisper._) David, do you think I could have a engagement ring?

POLICEMAN (_squaring his shoulders_). As to that, Jane, first tell me frankly, do you think the Police Force is romantical?

CINDERELLA. They’re brave and strong, but—

POLICEMAN. The general verdict is no. And yet a more romantical body of men do not exist. I have been brooding over this question of engagement rings, and I consider them unromantical affairs! (_He walks toward his parcel._)

CINDERELLA. David, what’s in that parcel?

POLICEMAN. Humbly hoping you would have me, Jane, I have had something special made for you—

CINDERELLA (_thrilling_). Oh, David, what is it?

POLICEMAN. It’s a policeman’s idea of an engagement ring—

CINDERELLA. Quick! Quick!

POLICEMAN. —for my amazing romantical mind said to me that, instead of popping a ring on the finger of his dear, a true lover should pop a pair of glass slippers upon her darling feet!

CINDERELLA. David, you’re a poet!

POLICEMAN (_not denying it_). It’s what you’ve made me—and proud I would be if, for the honour of the Force, I set this new fashion in engagement rings. (_He reveals the glass slippers._)

(CINDERELLA _holds out her hands for the little doves_.)

They’re not for hands. (_He uncovers her feet._)

CINDERELLA. They’re terrible small! Maybe they’ll not go on!

(_They go on._)

CINDERELLA. They’re like two kisses.

POLICEMAN. More like two love-letters.

CINDERELLA. No, David, no,—kisses.

POLICEMAN. We won’t quarrel about it, Cinders; but at the same time.... However!

(_He presses her face to him for a moment so that he
may not see its transparency._ DR. BODIE _has told him
something_.)

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
the text and consultation of external sources.

Some hyphens in words have been silently removed, some added,
when a predominant preference was found in the original book.

Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the
text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.

Pg 7: ‘in the passage.’ replaced by ‘in the passage.)’.

Pg 30: ‘He stops short’ replaced by ‘(He stops short’.