WENDY. It has come off! How awful. (Looking at the spot where he had lain.) Peter, you have been trying to stick it on with soap!
PETER (snappily). Well then?
WENDY. It must be sewn on.
PETER. What is ‘sewn’?
WENDY. You are dreadfully ignorant.
PETER. No, I’m not.
WENDY. I will sew it on for you, my little man. But we must have more light. (She touches something, and to his astonishment the room is illuminated.) Sit here. I dare say it will hurt a little.
PETER (a recent remark of hers rankling). I never cry. (She seems to attach the shadow. He tests the combination.) It isn’t quite itself yet.
WENDY. Perhaps I should have ironed it. (It awakes and is as glad to be back with him as he to have it. He and his shadow dance together. He is showing off now. He crows like a cock. He would fly in order to impress WENDY further if he knew that there is anything unusual in that.)
PETER. Wendy, look, look; oh the cleverness of me!
