(An old woman comes to the table and CINDERELLA politely pretends not to have seen her sitting there.)
It’s Mrs. Maloney!
MRS. M. Cinders, I have a pain. It’s like a jag of a needle down my side.
CINDERELLA (with a sinking, for she is secretly afraid of medical cases). Wait till I pop the therm-mo-mometer in. It’s a real one. (She says this with legitimate pride. She removes the instrument from MRS. MALONEY’S mouth after a prudent interval, and is not certain what to do next.)
Take a deep breath.... Again.... Say 99. (Her ear is against the patient’s chest.)
MRS. M. 99.
CINDERELLA (at a venture). Oho!
MRS. M. It ain’t there the pain is—it’s down my side.
CINDERELLA (firmly). We never say 99 down there.
MRS. M. What’s wrong wi’ me?