(She shakes her head.)
Is there any nice person to look after you in the sort of way in which you look after me?
CINDERELLA. I’m all alone. There’s just me and my feet.
BODIE. If you go I’ll miss you. We’ve had some good times here, Cinderella, haven’t we?
CINDERELLA (rapturously). We have! You mind that chop you gave me? Hey, hey, hey! (considering it judicially). That was the most charming chop I ever saw. And many is the lick of soup you’ve given me when you thought I looked down-like. Do you mind the chicken that was too high for you? You give me the whole chicken. That was a day.
BODIE. I never meant you to eat it.
CINDERELLA. I didn’t eat it all myself. I shared it with them.
BODIE (inquisitively). With them? With whom?
(Her mouth shuts promptly, and he sulks. She picks up the visiting cards that litter the floor.)
CINDERELLA. What a spill! If you’re not messing you’re spilling. Where’s the bowl?