HIGGINS. I--
MRS. HIGGINS. Sit down, dear; and listen to me.
HIGGINS. Oh very well, very well, very well. [He throws himself
ungraciously on the ottoman, with his face towards the windows]. But I
think you might have told me this half an hour ago.
MRS. HIGGINS. Eliza came to me this morning. She passed the night
partly walking about in a rage, partly trying to throw herself into the
river and being afraid to, and partly in the Carlton Hotel. She told me
of the brutal way you two treated her.
HIGGINS [bounding up again] What!
PICKERING [rising also] My dear Mrs. Higgins, she's been telling you
stories. We didn't treat her brutally. We hardly said a word to her;
and we parted on particularly good terms. [Turning on Higgins]. Higgins
did you bully her after I went to bed?
HIGGINS. Just the other way about. She threw my slippers in my face.
She behaved in the most outrageous way. I never gave her the slightest
provocation. The slippers came bang into my face the moment I entered
the room--before I had uttered a word. And used perfectly awful
language.
PICKERING [astonished] But why? What did we do to her?
MRS. HIGGINS. I think I know pretty well what you did. The girl is
naturally rather affectionate, I think. Isn't she, Mr. Doolittle?
DOOLITTLE. Very tender-hearted, ma'am. Takes after me.
MRS. HIGGINS. Just so. She had become attached to you both. She worked
very hard for you, Henry! I don't think you quite realize what anything
in the nature of brain work means to a girl like that. Well, it seems
that when the great day of trial came, and she did this wonderful thing
for you without making a single mistake, you two sat there and never
said a word to her, but talked together of how glad you were that it
was all over and how you had been bored with the whole thing. And then
you were surprised because she threw your slippers at you! _I_ should
have thrown the fire-irons at you.
HIGGINS. We said nothing except that we were tired and wanted to go to
bed. Did we, Pick?
PICKERING [shrugging his shoulders] That was all.
MRS. HIGGINS [ironically] Quite sure?
PICKERING. Absolutely. Really, that was all.
MRS. HIGGINS. You didn't thank her, or pet her, or admire her, or tell
her how splendid she'd been.
HIGGINS [impatiently] But she knew all about that. We didn't make
speeches to her, if that's what you mean.
PICKERING [conscience stricken] Perhaps we were a little inconsiderate.
Is she very angry?
MRS. HIGGINS [returning to her place at the writing-table] Well, I'm
afraid she won't go back to Wimpole Street, especially now that Mr.
Doolittle is able to keep up the position you have thrust on her; but
she says she is quite willing to meet you on friendly terms and to let
bygones be bygones.