MR. DARLING. It’s all very well to say you are waiting; so am I waiting.
MICHAEL. Father’s a cowardy custard.
MR. DARLING. So are you a cowardy custard.
(They are now glaring at each other.)
MICHAEL. I am not frightened.
MR. DARLING. Neither am I frightened.
MICHAEL. Well, then, take it.
MR. DARLING. Well, then, you take it.
WENDY (butting in again). Why not take it at the same time?
MR. DARLING (haughtily). Certainly. Are you ready, Michael?
WENDY (as nothing has happened). One—two—three.
(MICHAEL partakes, but MR. DARLING resorts to hanky-panky.)
JOHN. Father hasn’t taken his!
WENDY (inexpressibly pained). Oh father!
MR. DARLING (who has been hiding the glass behind him). What do you mean by ‘oh father’? Stop that row, Michael. I meant to take mine but I—missed it. (NANA shakes her head sadly
