MRS. PEARCE [patiently] I think you'd better let me speak to the girl

properly in private. I don't know that I can take charge of her or

consent to the arrangement at all. Of course I know you don't mean her

any harm; but when you get what you call interested in people's

accents, you never think or care what may happen to them or you. Come

with me, Eliza.

HIGGINS. That's all right. Thank you, Mrs. Pearce. Bundle her off to

the bath-room.

LIZA [rising reluctantly and suspiciously] You're a great bully, you

are. I won't stay here if I don't like. I won't let nobody wallop me. I

never asked to go to Bucknam Palace, I didn't. I was never in trouble

with the police, not me. I'm a good girl--

MRS. PEARCE. Don't answer back, girl. You don't understand the

gentleman. Come with me. [She leads the way to the door, and holds it

open for Eliza].

LIZA [as she goes out] Well, what I say is right. I won't go near the

king, not if I'm going to have my head cut off. If I'd known what I was

letting myself in for, I wouldn't have come here. I always been a good

girl; and I never offered to say a word to him; and I don't owe him

nothing; and I don't care; and I won't be put upon; and I have my

feelings the same as anyone else--

Mrs. Pearce shuts the door; and Eliza's plaints are no longer audible.

Pickering comes from the hearth to the chair and sits astride it with

his arms on the back.

PICKERING. Excuse the straight question, Higgins. Are you a man of good

character where women are concerned?

HIGGINS [moodily] Have you ever met a man of good character where women

are concerned?

PICKERING. Yes: very frequently.

HIGGINS [dogmatically, lifting himself on his hands to the level of the

piano, and sitting on it with a bounce] Well, I haven't. I find that

the moment I let a woman make friends with me, she becomes jealous,

exacting, suspicious, and a damned nuisance. I find that the moment I

let myself make friends with a woman, I become selfish and tyrannical.

Women upset everything. When you let them into your life, you find that

the woman is driving at one thing and you're driving at another.

PICKERING. At what, for example?

HIGGINS [coming off the piano restlessly] Oh, Lord knows! I suppose the

woman wants to live her own life; and the man wants to live his; and

each tries to drag the other on to the wrong track. One wants to go

north and the other south; and the result is that both have to go east,

though they both hate the east wind. [He sits down on the bench at the

keyboard]. So here I am, a confirmed old bachelor, and likely to remain

so.




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