Higgins.  Come back to business.  How much do you propose to pay me for the lessons?

Liza.  Oh, I know what’s right.  A lady friend of mine gets French lessons for eighteenpence an hour from a real French gentleman.  Well, you wouldn’t have the face to ask me the same for teaching me my own language as you would for French; so I won’t give more than a shilling.  Take it or leave it.

Higgins [walking up and down the room, rattling his keys and his cash in his pockets] You know, Pickering, if you consider a shilling, not as a simple shilling, but as a percentage of this girl’s income, it works out as fully equivalent to sixty or seventy guineas from a millionaire.

Pickering.  How so?

Higgins.  Figure it out.  A millionaire has about 150 pounds a day. 
She earns about half-a-crown.

Liza [haughtily] Who told you I only—­

Higgins [continuing] She offers me two-fifths of her day’s income for a lesson.  Two-fifths of a millionaire’s income for a day would be somewhere about 60 pounds.  It’s handsome.  By George, it’s enormous! it’s the biggest offer I ever had.

Liza [rising, terrified] Sixty pounds!  What are you talking about?  I never offered you sixty pounds.  Where would I get—­

Higgins.  Hold your tongue.

Liza [weeping] But I ain’t got sixty pounds.  Oh—­

Mrs. Pearce.  Don’t cry, you silly girl.  Sit down.  Nobody is going to touch your money.

Higgins.  Somebody is going to touch you, with a broomstick, if you don’t stop snivelling.  Sit down.

Liza [obeying slowly] Ah—­ah—­ah—­ow—­oo—­o!  One would think you was my father.

Higgins.  If I decide to teach you, I’ll be worse than two fathers to you.  Here [he offers her his silk handkerchief]!

Liza.  What’s this for?

Higgins.  To wipe your eyes.  To wipe any part of your face that feels moist.  Remember:  that’s your handkerchief; and that’s your sleeve.  Don’t mistake the one for the other if you wish to become a lady in a shop.

Liza, utterly bewildered, stares helplessly at him.

Mrs. Pearce.  It’s no use talking to her like that, Mr. Higgins:  she doesn’t understand you.  Besides, you’re quite wrong:  she doesn’t do it that way at all [she takes the handkerchief].

Liza [snatching it] Here!  You give me that handkerchief.  He give it to me, not to you.

Pickering [laughing] He did.  I think it must be regarded as her property, Mrs. Pearce.

Mrs. Pearce [resigning herself] Serve you right, Mr. Higgins.

Pickering.  Higgins:  I’m interested.  What about the ambassador’s garden party?  I’ll say you’re the greatest teacher alive if you make that good.  I’ll bet you all the expenses of the experiment you can’t do it.  And I’ll pay for the lessons.