PICKERING. We are, slightly. Are there any letters?

HIGGINS. I didn't look. [Pickering takes the overcoats and hats
and goes down stairs. Higgins begins half singing half yawning an
air from La Fanciulla del Golden West. Suddenly he stops and
exclaims] I wonder where the devil my slippers are!

Eliza looks at him darkly; then leaves the room.

Higgins yawns again, and resumes his song. Pickering returns,
with the contents of the letter-box in his hand.

PICKERING. Only circulars, and this coroneted billet-doux for
you. [He throws the circulars into the fender, and posts himself
on the hearthrug, with his back to the grate].

HIGGINS [glancing at the billet-doux] Money-lender. [He throws
the letter after the circulars].

Eliza returns with a pair of large down-at-heel slippers. She
places them on the carpet before Higgins, and sits as before
without a word.

HIGGINS [yawning again] Oh Lord! What an evening! What a crew!
What a silly tomfoollery! [He raises his shoe to unlace it, and
catches sight of the slippers. He stops unlacing and looks at
them as if they had appeared there of their own accord]. Oh!
they're there, are they?

PICKERING [stretching himself] Well, I feel a bit tired. It's