You foolish, foolish woman. Look what you've done. I thought, "Yes, well, she's selfish and rude and eccentric, but that goes with her class. I can live with that." I was a fool. You don't know anything about the real world, do you?
— Vivan Van Damm after Maureen's death
Mrs Henderson: May I introduce myself: I'm Mrs Henderson. You might see my name on the billboard over there: "Mrs Henderson Presents". Well I am that Mrs Henderson and I have presented the Windmill for four years now. Now let me tell you why. Oh dear, are you able to see me?
Soldier: Here you are, Ma'am. (Placing a stool for her to stand on.)
Mrs Henderson: Oh, that's so sweet. Are you American?
Soldier: Yes.
Mrs Henderson: Oh. Strange people, lovely manners. Thank you, dear. Now, there was a war before this one. It was meant to end all wars. I lost my son in that war. My only son, Alec. He was 21. He perished from poison gas, I believe. On a field in France."
(Beat)
Mrs Henderson: "After-some time after-I went to his room to clear away his things and discovered the most amazing thing. What I believe you call a French postcard. A photograph of a naked woman. He'd been hiding it. And I realized that Alec had probably gone to his death without ever seeing a woman naked in real life. Well I thought that was the most awful thing. When you lose a son in a war, you do know, no matter what anyone might say, that his death has been in vain. It won't stop others from following-other wars, other young men. Years later, after my husband had died and I was on my own, I decided to buy a theater and put on a nude revue, so that boys like Alec would never be in the same predicament. As long as the Windmill exists, there's no need for a sad little postcard stashed under a bed, is there? Sometimes, my feelings towards our young men in uniform have led me to foolish actions. Which I do, in my very soul, regret. But I do know this: that my desire to present this gift to our young men has not been wrong. If we are to ask our youth to surrender their lives, we should not ask them to surrender joy. Or the possibility of joy. And if, along the way, we cause too many people to congregate in the street, who gives a fiddler's fuck? (To Van Damm) There, I said it."
(Air-raid sirens)
Mrs Henderson: Oh dear, another air raid. Don't you think everyone would be so much safer inside?
Soldiers: Yes!
Lord Chamberlain: Oh, for Christ's sake, Van Damm, take down that stupid sign an let your public in!
Mrs Henderson: Ow! You've severed my toe.
Van Damm: Nonsense. I didn't touch it.
Mrs Henderson: You're rather clumsy.
Van Damm: That's not something you say to a dancing partner.
Mrs Henderson: You should take lessons before issuing an invitation.
Van Damm: I'm a very good dancer, thank you very much.
Mrs Henderson: In India only delicate men are good dancers. The ungainly are not so.
Van Damm: Listen, you old battleaxe...
Mrs Henderson: Don't you dare speak to me like that!
— Mrs Henderson and Van Damm dancing on the rooftop of the theatre.
