DOOLITTLE [softening his manner in deference to her sex] That's
the tragedy of it, ma'am. It's easy to say chuck it; but I
haven't the nerve. Which one of us has? We're all intimidated.
Intimidated, ma'am: that's what we are. What is there for me if I
chuck it but the workhouse in my old age? I have to dye my hair
already to keep my job as a dustman. If I was one of the
deserving poor, and had put by a bit, I could chuck it; but then
why should I, acause the deserving poor might as well be
millionaires for all the happiness they ever has. They don't know
what happiness is. But I, as one of the undeserving poor, have
nothing between me and the pauper's uniform but this here blasted
three thousand a year that shoves me into the middle class.
(Excuse the expression, ma'am: you'd use it yourself if you had
my provocation). They've got you every way you turn: it's a
choice between the Skilly of the workhouse and the Char Bydis of
the middle class; and I haven't the nerve for the workhouse.
Intimidated: that's what I am. Broke. Bought up. Happier men than
me will call for my dust, and touch me for their tip; and I'll
look on helpless, and envy them. And that's what your son has
brought me to. [He is overcome by emotion].

MRS. HIGGINS. Well, I'm very glad you're not going to do anything
foolish, Mr. Doolittle. For this solves the problem of Eliza's
future. You can provide for her now.

DOOLITTLE [with melancholy resignation] Yes, ma'am; I'm expected
to provide for everyone now, out of three thousand a year.

HIGGINS [jumping up] Nonsense! he can't provide for her. He