Higgins [stupent] well!!! [Recovering his breath with a gasp] What do you expect me to say to you?

The flower girl.  Well, if you was a gentleman, you might ask me to sit down, I think.  Don’t I tell you I’m bringing you business?

Higgins.  Pickering:  shall we ask this baggage to sit down or shall we throw her out of the window?

The flower girl [running away in terror to the piano, where she turns at bay] Ah—­ah—­ah—­ow—­ow—­ow—­oo! [Wounded and whimpering] I won’t be called a baggage when I’ve offered to pay like any lady.

Motionless, the two men stare at her from the other side of the room, amazed.

Pickering [gently] What is it you want, my girl?

The flower girl.  I want to be a lady in a flower shop stead of selling at the corner of Tottenham Court Road.  But they won’t take me unless I can talk more genteel.  He said he could teach me.  Well, here I am ready to pay him—­not asking any favor—­and he treats me as if I was dirt.

Mrs. Pearce.  How can you be such a foolish ignorant girl as to think you could afford to pay Mr. Higgins?

The flower girl.  Why shouldn’t I?  I know what lessons cost as well as you do; and I’m ready to pay.

Higgins.  How much?

The flower girl [coming back to him, triumphant] Now you’re talking!  I thought you’d come off it when you saw a chance of getting back a bit of what you chucked at me last night. [Confidentially] You’d had a drop in, hadn’t you?

Higgins [peremptorily] Sit down.

The flower girl.  Oh, if you’re going to make a compliment of it—­

Higgins [thundering at her] Sit down.

Mrs. Pearce [severely] Sit down, girl.  Do as you’re told. [She places the stray chair near the hearthrug between Higgins and Pickering, and stands behind it waiting for the girl to sit down].

The flower girl.  Ah—­ah—­ah—­ow—­ow—­oo! [She stands, half rebellious, half bewildered].

Pickering [very courteous] Won’t you sit down?

Liza [coyly] Don’t mind if I do. [She sits down.  Pickering returns to the hearthrug].

Higgins.  What’s your name?

The flower girl.  Liza Doolittle.

Higgins [declaiming gravely]
Eliza, Elizabeth, Betsy and Bess,
They went to the woods to get a birds nes’: 
Pickering.  They found a nest with four eggs in it: 
Higgins.  They took one apiece, and left three in it.

They laugh heartily at their own wit.

Liza.  Oh, don’t be silly.

Mrs. Pearce.  You mustn’t speak to the gentleman like that.

Liza.  Well, why won’t he speak sensible to me?