DR. BODIE (shaking her head). There isn’t much chance, Dick. Her body and soul have had to do too long without the little things they needed.
BODIE. She shall have them now, I promise. What are they?
DR. BODIE. First of all, just food. She has been half starved all her life. And then human affection. She has been starved of that also; she who has such a genius for it.
(She goes to the window and calls.)
DR. BODIE. No. 7, bring Cinderella in here.
(CINDERELLA in her bed is wheeled in through the window by the soldier, DANNY. She is wearing a probationer’s cap and dressing jacket. The bed is a simple iron one, small and low, of the kind that was so common in war hospitals; it is on tiny pneumatic wheels with ball bearings for easy propulsion. Though frail, CINDERELLA is full of glee.)
BODIE. Hurray, Cinderella!
CINDERELLA. Hurray! Isn’t it lovely. I’m glad you’ve seen me in my carriage. When I saw there was visitor I thought at first it might be David.
BODIE. David? I didn’t know you.... Is he a relative?