(_The children exchange glances and she is severe._) Couchy. (_They disappear._) POLICEMAN. An ally? CINDERELLA. She’s—she’s—Swiss. POLICEMAN (_lowering_). Now then! CINDERELLA. She’s not exactly Swiss. You can guess now what she is. POLICEMAN (_grave_). This puts me in a very difficult position. CINDERELLA (_beginning to cry_). Nobody would take her. She was left over. I tried not to take her. I’m a patriot, I am. But there she was—left over—and her so terrible little—I couldn’t help taking her. POLICEMAN. I dunno. (_Quite unfairly._) If her folk had been in your place and you in hers, they would have shown neither mercy nor pity for you. CINDERELLA (_stoutly_). That makes no difference. POLICEMAN (_Was this the great moment?_). I think there’s something uncommon about you. CINDERELLA (_pleased_). About _me_? POLICEMAN. I suppose she’s sleeping. CINDERELLA. Not her! POLICEMAN. What’s she doing? CINDERELLA. She’s strafing! POLICEMAN. Who’s she strafing? CINDERELLA. Very likely you. She misses nobody. You see I’ve put some barb-wire round her box. POLICEMAN. I see now. CINDERELLA. It’s not really barb-wire. It’s worsted. I was feared the wire would hurt her. But it just makes a difference. POLICEMAN. How do the others get on with her? CINDERELLA. I makes them get on with her. Of course there’s tongues out, and little things like that. POLICEMAN. Were the foreign children shy of you at first? CINDERELLA. Not as soon as they heard my name. ‘Oh, are you Cinderella?’ they said, in their various languages—and ‘when’s the ball?’ they said. POLICEMAN. Somebody must have telled them about you. CINDERELLA (_happy_). Not here. They had heard about me in their foreign lands. Everybody knows Cinderella, it’s fine. Even her—(_indicating German_) the moment I mentioned my name—‘Where’s your ugly sisters?’ says she, looking round. POLICEMAN. Sisters? It’s new to me, your having sisters. (_He produces his note book._) CINDERELLA (_uneasily_). It’s kind of staggering to me, too. I haven’t been able to manage them yet, but they’ll be at the ball. POLICEMAN. It’s queer. CINDERELLA. It _is_ queer. POLICEMAN. (_sitting down with her_). How do you know this ball’s to-night? CINDERELLA. It had to be some night. You see, after I closes my business I have chats with the children about things, and naturally it’s mostly about the ball. I put it off as long as I could, but it had to be some night—and this is the night. POLICEMAN. You mean it’s make-believe? CINDERELLA (_almost fiercely_). None of that! POLICEMAN (_shaking his head_). I don’t like it. CINDERELLA (_shining_). You wouldn’t say that if you heard the blasts on the trumpet and loud roars of ‘Make way for the Lady Cinderella!’ (_Three heads pop up again._) POLICEMAN. Lady?