Something touches WENDY as lightly as a kiss.)
PETER (with little interest). It must be the tail of the kite we made for Michael; you remember it tore itself out of his hands and floated away. (He looks up and sees the kite sailing overhead.) The kite! Why shouldn’t it carry you? (He grips the tail and pulls, and the kite responds.)
WENDY. Both of us!
PETER. It can’t lift two. Michael and Curly tried.
(She knows very well that if it can lift her it can lift him also, for she has been told by the boys as a deadly secret that one of the queer things about him is that he is no weight at all. But it is a forbidden subject.)
WENDY. I won’t go without you. Let us draw lots which is to stay behind.
PETER. And you a lady, never! (The tail is in her hands, and the kite is tugging hard. She holds out her mouth to PETER, but he knows they cannot do that.) Ready, Wendy!
(The kite draws her out of sight across the lagoon.
