(_He stealthily mounts a chair and puts his hand into Gretchen’s box. We must presume that it is bitten by the invisible occupant, for he withdraws it hurriedly to the hearty delight of the spectators. This mirth changes to rapture as_ CINDERELLA _makes a conceited entrance carrying a jug of milk and five hot potatoes in their jackets. Handsomely laden as she is, it is her attire that calls forth the applause. She is now wearing the traditional short brown dress of_ CINDERELLA, _and her hair hangs loose. She tries to look modest._) CINDERELLA (_displaying herself_). What do you think? POLICEMAN (_again in Badgery_). Great! Turn round. And I suppose you made it yourself out of a shop window? CINDERELLA. No, we didn’t need no shop window; we all knew exactly what I was wearing when the knock came. GLADYS. Of course we did. (_A potato is passed up to each and a cup of milk between two. There is also a delicious saucerful of melted lard into which they dip._ GRETCHEN _is now as much in evidence as the others, and quite as attractive—the fun becomes fast and furious_.) CINDERELLA (_to_ POLICEMAN). A potato? POLICEMAN. No, I thank you. CINDERELLA. Just a snack? POLICEMAN. Thank you. (_She shares with him._) CINDERELLA. A little dip? POLICEMAN. No, I thank you. CINDERELLA. Just to look friendly. POLICEMAN. I thank you. (_Dipping._) To you, Cinderella. CINDERELLA. I thank you. POLICEMAN (_proposing a toast_). The King! CINDERELLA (_rather consciously_). And the Prince of Wales. GLADYS. And father. POLICEMAN. The King, the Prince of Wales, and father. (_The toast is drunk, dipped and eaten with acclamation._ GLADYS, _uninvited, recites ‘The Mariners of England.’_ MARIE-THERESE _follows (without waiting for the end) with the Marseillaise, and_ GRETCHEN _puts out her tongue at both. Our_ POLICEMAN _having intimated that he desires to propose another toast of a more lengthy character, the children are lifted down and placed in their nightgowns at the table_.) POLICEMAN (_suddenly becoming nervous_). I have now the honour to propose absent friends. GLADYS (_with an inspiration to which_ MARIE-THERESE _bows elegantly_). Vive la France! POLICEMAN. I mean our friends at the Front. And they have their children, too. Your boxes we know about, but I daresay there’s many similar and even queerer places, where the children, the smallest of our allies, are sleeping this night within the sound of shells. MARIE. La petite Belgique. La pauvre enfant! DELPHINE (_proudly_). Me! POLICEMAN. So here’s to absent friends— GLADYS (_with another inspiration_). Absent boxes! POLICEMAN. Absent boxes! And there’s a party we know about who would like uncommon to have the charge of the lot of them—(_looking at Cinderella_). And I couples the toast with the name of the said party.