Higgins [jumping up] Nonsense! he can’t provide for her.  He shan’t provide for her.  She doesn’t belong to him.  I paid him five pounds for her.  Doolittle:  either you’re an honest man or a rogue.

Doolittle [tolerantly] A little of both, Henry, like the rest of us:  a little of both.

Higgins.  Well, you took that money for the girl; and you have no right to take her as well.

Mrs. Higgins.  Henry:  don’t be absurd.  If you really want to know where Eliza is, she is upstairs.

Higgins [amazed] Upstairs!!!  Then I shall jolly soon fetch her downstairs. [He makes resolutely for the door].

Mrs. Higgins [rising and following him] Be quiet, Henry.  Sit down.

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?