TOOTLES (dazzled). Am I in a story? Nibs, I am in a story!
PETER (who is by the fire making Pan’s pipes with his knife, and is determined that WENDY shall have fair play, however beastly a story he may think it). A little less noise there.
WENDY (melting over the beauty of her present performance, but without any real qualms). Now I want you to consider the feelings of the unhappy parents with all their children flown away. Think, oh think, of the empty beds. (The heartless ones think of them with glee.)
FIRST TWIN (cheerfully). It’s awfully sad.
WENDY. But our heroine knew that her mother would always leave the window open for her progeny to fly back by; so they stayed away for years and had a lovely time.
(PETER is interested at last.)
FIRST TWIN. Did they ever go back?
WENDY (comfortably). Let us now take a peep into the future. Years have rolled by, and who is this elegant lady of uncertain age alighting at London station?
(The tension is unbearable.)
