Pygmalion

HIGGINS. Anyhow, there's no good bothering now. The thing's done.

Good-bye, mother. [He kisses her, and follows Pickering].

PICKERING [turning for a final consolation] There are plenty of

openings. We'll do what's right. Good-bye.

HIGGINS [to Pickering as they go out together] Let's take her to the

Shakespear exhibition at Earls Court.

PICKERING. Yes: let's. Her remarks will be delicious.

HIGGINS. She'll mimic all the people for us when we get home.

PICKERING. Ripping. [Both are heard laughing as they go downstairs].

MRS. HIGGINS [rises with an impatient bounce, and returns to her work

at the writing-table. She sweeps a litter of disarranged papers out of

her way; snatches a sheet of paper from her stationery case; and tries

resolutely to write. At the third line she gives it up; flings down her

pen; grips the table angrily and exclaims] Oh, men! men!! men!!!