Pygmalion

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.