CINDERELLA. It’s not really barb-wire. It’s worsted. I was feared the wire would hurt her. But it just makes a difference.
POLICEMAN. How do the others get on with her?
CINDERELLA. I makes them get on with her. Of course there’s tongues out, and little things like that.
POLICEMAN. Were the foreign children shy of you at first?
CINDERELLA. Not as soon as they heard my name. ‘Oh, are you Cinderella?’ they said, in their various languages—and ‘when’s the ball?’ they said.
POLICEMAN. Somebody must have telled them about you.
CINDERELLA (happy). Not here. They had heard about me in their foreign lands. Everybody knows Cinderella, it’s fine. Even her—(indicating German) the moment I mentioned my name—‘Where’s your ugly sisters?’ says she, looking round.
POLICEMAN. Sisters? It’s new to me, your having sisters. (He produces his note book.)
CINDERELLA (uneasily). It’s kind of staggering to me, too. I haven’t been able to manage them yet, but they’ll be at the ball.