CINDERELLA (_giving a pennyworth for nothing_). Kind friends, it would be pretending of me not to let on that I know I am the party referred to by the last speaker—in far too flattersome words. When I look about me and see just four boxes I am a kind of shamed, but it wasn’t very convenient to me to have more. I will now conclude by saying I wish I was the old woman that lived in a shoe, and it doesn’t matter how many I had I would have known fine what to do. The end. (_After further diversion._) It’s a fine party. I hope your potato is mealy? POLICEMAN. I never had a better tatie. CINDERELLA. Don’t spare the skins. POLICEMAN. But you’re eating nothing yourself. CINDERELLA. I’m not hungry. And, of course, I’ll be expected to take a bite at the ball. (_This reminder of the ball spoils the_ POLICEMAN’S _enjoyment_.) POLICEMAN. I wish—you wasn’t so sure of the ball. GLADYS (_in defence_). Why shouldn’t she not be sure of it? DELPHINE. Pourquoi, Monsieur? CINDERELLA (_rather hotly_). Don’t say things like that here. MARIE. Has Monsieur by chance seen God-mamma coming? POLICEMAN. God-mamma? CINDERELLA. That’s my Godmother; she brings my ball dress and a carriage with four ponies. GLADYS. Then away she goes to the ball—hooray—hooray! CINDERELLA. It’s all perfectly simple once Godmother comes. POLICEMAN (_with unconscious sarcasm_). I can see she’s important. CINDERELLA (_with the dreadful sinking that comes to her at times_). You think she’ll come, don’t you? POLICEMAN. Cinderella, your hand’s burning—and in this cold room. CINDERELLA. Say you think she’ll come. POLICEMAN. I—well, I.... I.... GLADYS (_imploringly_). Say it, Mister! DELPHINE (_begging_). Monsieur! Monsieur! MARIE. If it is that you love me, Monsieur! POLICEMAN (_in distress_). I question of there was ever before a member of the Force in such a position. (_Yielding._) I expect she’ll come. (_This settles it in the opinion of the children, but their eyes are too bright for such a late hour, and they are ordered to bed. Our_ POLICEMAN _replaces them in their boxes_.) CINDERELLA. One—two—three . . . couchy! (_They disappear._) POLICEMAN (_awkwardly and trying to hedge_). Of course this is an out-of-the-way little street for a Godmother to find. CINDERELLA. Yes, I’ve thought of that. I’d best go and hang about outside; she would know me by my dress. POLICEMAN (_hastily_). I wouldn’t do that. It’s a cold night. (_He wanders about the room eyeing her sideways._) Balls is always late things. CINDERELLA. I’m none so sure. In war-time, you see, with the streets so dark and the King so kind, it would be just like him to begin early and close at ten instead of twelve. I must leave before twelve. If I don’t, there’s terrible disasters happens. POLICEMAN (_unable to follow this_). The ball might be put off owing to the Prince of Wales being in France. CINDERELLA. He catched the last boat. I’ll go out and watch.