PICKERING. Oh!

MRS. PEARCE [at the door] Doolittle, sir. [She admits Doolittle
and retires].

Alfred Doolittle is an elderly but vigorous dustman, clad in the
costume of his profession, including a hat with a back brim
covering his neck and shoulders. He has well marked and rather
interesting features, and seems equally free from fear and
conscience. He has a remarkably expressive voice, the result of a
habit of giving vent to his feelings without reserve. His present
pose is that of wounded honor and stern resolution.

DOOLITTLE [at the door, uncertain which of the two gentlemen is
his man] Professor Higgins?

HIGGINS. Here. Good morning. Sit down.

DOOLITTLE. Morning, Governor. [He sits down magisterially] I come
about a very serious matter, Governor.

HIGGINS [to Pickering] Brought up in Hounslow. Mother Welsh, I
should think. [Doolittle opens his mouth, amazed. Higgins
continues] What do you want, Doolittle?

DOOLITTLE [menacingly] I want my daughter: that's what I want.
See?

HIGGINS. Of course you do. You're her father, aren't you? You
don't suppose anyone else wants her, do you? I'm glad to see you