POLICEMAN (_cunningly_). Hereabouts they are; but there’s great doings in the fashionable quarters. A ball, I’m told. CINDERELLA (_gasping_). You didn’t see no peculiar person about in this street? POLICEMAN. How peculiar? CINDERELLA. Like a—a flunkey? POLICEMAN. Did I now—or did I not? CINDERELLA (_eagerly_). He would be carrying an invite maybe; it’s a big card. POLICEMAN. I can’t say I saw him. (_Here an astonishing thing happens. The head of a child rises from one of the boxes. She is unseen by either of the mortals._) CINDERELLA (_considering the beard_). How do I start with the like of this? POLICEMAN. First you saws.... (_She attempts to saw. The beard comes off in her hand._) CINDERELLA (_recognising his face_). You! POLICEMAN (_stepping triumphantly out of his disguise_). Me! (_As sometimes happens, however, the one who means to give the surprise gets a greater. At sight of his dreaded uniform the child screams, whereat two other children in other boxes bob up and scream also. It is some time before the policeman can speak._) So that’s what the boxes was for! CINDERELLA (_feebly_). Yes. POLICEMAN (_portentously_). Who and what are these phenomenons? CINDERELLA (_protectingly_). Don’t be frightened, children. Down! (_They disappear obediently._) There’s no wrong in it. They’re just me trying to do my bit. It’s said all should do their bit in war-time. It was into a hospital I wanted to go to nurse the wounded soldiers. I offered myself at every hospital door, but none would have me, so this was all I could do. POLICEMAN. You’re taking care of them? (_She nods._) Sounds all right. Neighbours’ children? CINDERELLA. The brown box is. She’s half of an orphan, her father’s a bluejacket, so, of course, I said I would. POLICEMAN. You need say no more. I pass little bluejacket. CINDERELLA. Those other two is allies. She’s French—and her’s a Belgy—(_calls_). Marie-Therese. (_The French child sits up._) Speak your language to the gentleman, Marie-Therese. MARIE. Bon soir, monsieur—comment portez-vous? Je t’aime. (_She curtseys charmingly to him from the box._) POLICEMAN. Well, I’m ——d! CINDERELLA. Delphine. (_The Belgian looks up._) Make votre bow. Gladys! (_The English child bobs up._) A friend, Gladys. (GLADYS _and the policeman grin to each other_.) GLADYS. What cheer! CINDERELLA. Monsieur is a Britain’s defender. MARIE. Oh, la, la! Parlez-vous français, monsieur? Non! I blow you two kisses, monsieur—the one is to you (_kisses hand_) to keep, the other you will give—(_kisses hand_) to Kitch. POLICEMAN (_writing_). Sends kiss to Lord Kitchener. CINDERELLA. She’s the one that does most of the talking. POLICEMAN (_who is getting friendly_). I suppose that other box is an empty. (CINDERELLA’S _mouth closes_.) Is that box empty? CINDERELLA. It’s not exactly empty. POLICEMAN. What’s inside? CINDERELLA. She’s the littlest.