CINDERELLA. Umpha! (wistfully). It must be fine to have men so mad about you that they go off their feed and roar. (She turns with a sigh to the dusting of the penguin.) What did you say this is?
BODIE (ignorant of what he is letting himself in for). A bishop.
CINDERELLA (nearly choking). The sort that marries swell couples?
BODIE. Yes.
CINDERELLA (huskily, as if it made all the difference to her). I never thought of that.
BODIE (kindly). Why should you, you queer little waif. Do you know why I call you Cinderella?
CINDERELLA. Fine, I know.
BODIE. Why is it?
CINDERELLA (with shy happiness). It’s because I have such pretty feet.
BODIE. You dear little innocent. (He thinks shame of his suspicions. He is planning how to get rid of the man in the pantry when she brings him back to hard facts with a bump.)