Wot _I_ want, ain't no use wishing for!
MARY. It doesn't matter what it is! Anything you like! It will
all happen!
ROBERT. Blimey, wot's the good o' talkin'?
MARY. Oh, wouldn't you like to help to spin the fairy-tale?
ROBERT [roughly], I don't believe in no fairy-tales!
MARY. I do! I don't believe there's anything else in the world,
if we only knew! And that's why I'm wishing! I'm wishing now!
I'm wishing hard!
ROBERT [passionately]. So am I, Gawd 'elp me! But it's no use!
MARY. It is! It is! What are you wishing for?
ROBERT. Never you mind! Summat as impossible as--fairy-tales!
MARY. So's mine! That's what it has to be! Mine's the most
impossible thing in the world!
ROBERT. Not more than mine!
MARY. What's yours?
ROBERT. What's yours?
MARY. _I want my father_!
ROBERT. I WANT MY LITTLE KID!
[There is a second's pause.]
MARY. Your--what? . . .
ROBERT [brokenly]. My--daughter.
MARY. Oh! . . .
[She goes towards him: they face each other.]
[Softly.] Is she dead?
[He stands looking at her.
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