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is own person] See here! Do you see this? You done this. HIGGINS. Done what, man? DOOLITTLE. This, I tell you. Look at it. Look at this hat. Look at this coat. PICKERING. Has Eliza been buying you clothes? DOOLITTLE. Eliza! not she. Not half. Why would she buy me clothes? MRS. HIGGINS. Good-morning, Mr. Doolittle. Won't you sit down? DOOLITTLE [taken aback as he becomes conscious that he has forgotten his hostess] Asking your pardon, ma'am. [He approaches her and shakes her proffered hand]. Thank you. [He sits down on the ottoman, on Pickering's right]. I am that full of what has happened to me that I can't think of anything else. HIGGINS. What the dickens has happened to you? DOOLITTLE. I shouldn't mind if it had only happened to me: anything might happen to anybody and nobody to blame but Providence, as you might say. But this is something that you done to me: yes, you, Henry Higgins. HIGGINS. Have you found Eliza? That's the point. DOOLITTLE. Have you lost her? HIGGINS. Yes. DOOLITTLE. You have all the luck, you have. I ain't found her; but she'll find me quick enough now after what you done to me. MRS. HIGGINS. But what has my son done to you, Mr. Doolittle? DOOLITTLE. Done to me! Ruined me. Destroyed my happiness. Tied me up and delivered me into the hands of middle class morality. HIGGINS [rising intolerantly and standing over Doolittle] You're raving. You're drunk. You're mad. I gave you five pounds. After that I had two conversations with you, at half-a-crown an hour. I've never seen you since. DOOLITTLE. Oh! Drunk! am I? Mad! am I? Tell me this. Did you or did you not write a letter to an old blighter in America that was giving five millions to found Moral Reform Societies all over the world, and that wanted you to invent a universal language for him? HIGGINS. What! Ezra D. Wannafeller! He's dead. [He sits down again carelessly]. DOOLITTLE. Yes: he's dead; and I'm done for. Now did you or did you not write a letter to him to say that the most original moralist at present in England, to the best of your knowledge, was Alfred Doolittle, a common dustman. HIGGINS. Oh, after your last visit I remember making some silly joke of the kind. DOOLITTLE. Ah! you may well call it a silly joke. It put the lid on me right enough. Just give him the chance he wanted to show that Americans is not like us: that they recognize and respect merit in every class of life, however humble
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