PICKERING. What is his trade, Eliza?

LIZA. Talking money out of other people's pockets into his own.
His proper trade's a navvy; and he works at it sometimes too--for
exercise--and earns good money at it. Ain't you going to call me
Miss Doolittle any more?

PICKERING. I beg your pardon, Miss Doolittle. It was a slip of
the tongue.

LIZA. Oh, I don't mind; only it sounded so genteel. I should just
like to take a taxi to the corner of Tottenham Court Road and get
out there and tell it to wait for me, just to put the girls in
their place a bit. I wouldn't speak to them, you know.

PICKERING. Better wait til we get you something really
fashionable.

HIGGINS. Besides, you shouldn't cut your old friends now that you
have risen in the world. That's what we call snobbery.

LIZA. You don't call the like of them my friends now, I should
hope. They've took it out of me often enough with their ridicule
when they had the chance; and now I mean to get a bit of my own
back. But if I'm to have fashionable clothes, I'll wait. I should
like to have some. Mrs. Pearce says you're going to give me some
to wear in bed at night different to what I wear in the daytime;
but it do seem a waste of money when you could get something to
show. Besides, I never could fancy changing into cold things on a