CINDERELLA (who in the course of a troubled life has acquired much miscellaneous information). In the Workhouse you always get an egg to your tea the day before you die. (She whispers.) I know now I’m not the real Cinderella.
BODIE (taking her hand). How did you find out?
CINDERELLA (gravely). It’s come to me. The more I eat the clearer I see things. I think it was just an idea of mine; being lonely-like I needed to have something to hang on to.
BODIE. That was it. Are you sorry you’re not the other one?
CINDERELLA. I’m glad to be just myself. It’s a pity though about the glass slippers. That’s a lovely idea.
BODIE. Yes.
CINDERELLA. Tell me about Them.
BODIE. The children? They’re still with me, of course. I’m keeping my promise, and they will be with me till you are able to take care of them again. I have them a great deal in the studio in the day-time.
CINDERELLA (cogitating). I wonder if that’s wise.