PETER. About the prince, and he couldn’t find the lady who wore the glass slipper.
WENDY. That was Cinderella. Peter, he found her and they were happy ever after.
PETER. I am glad. (They have worked their way along the floor close to each other, but he now jumps up.)
WENDY. Where are you going?
PETER (already on his way to the window). To tell the other boys.
WENDY. Don’t go, Peter. I know lots of stories. The stories I could tell to the boys!
PETER (gleaming). Come on! We’ll fly.
WENDY. Fly? You can fly!
(How he would like to rip those stories out of her; he is dangerous now.)
PETER. Wendy, come with me.
WENDY. Oh dear, I mustn’t. Think of mother. Besides, I can’t fly.
PETER. I’ll teach you.
WENDY. How lovely to fly!
PETER. I’ll teach you how to jump on the wind’s back and then away we go. Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be
