himself with his back to the fire] No, thank you; not now. I'm
quite done up for this morning.

HIGGINS [following him, and standing beside him on his left]
Tired of listening to sounds?

PICKERING. Yes. It's a fearful strain. I rather fancied myself
because I can pronounce twenty-four distinct vowel sounds; but
your hundred and thirty beat me. I can't hear a bit of difference
between most of them.

HIGGINS [chuckling, and going over to the piano to eat sweets]
Oh, that comes with practice. You hear no difference at first;
but you keep on listening, and presently you find they're all as
different as A from B. [Mrs. Pearce looks in: she is Higgins's
housekeeper] What's the matter?

MRS. PEARCE [hesitating, evidently perplexed] A young woman wants
to see you, sir.

HIGGINS. A young woman! What does she want?

MRS. PEARCE. Well, sir, she says you'll be glad to see her when
you know what she's come about. She's quite a common girl, sir.
Very common indeed. I should have sent her away, only I thought
perhaps you wanted her to talk into your machines. I hope I've
not done wrong; but really you see such queer people sometimes--
you'll excuse me, I'm sure, sir--

HIGGINS. Oh, that's all right, Mrs. Pearce. Has she an