HIGGINS [catching her wrists] Ah! would you? Claws in, you cat.
How dare you show your temper to me? Sit down and be quiet. [He
throws her roughly into the easy-chair].

LIZA [crushed by superior strength and weight] What's to become
of me? What's to become of me?

HIGGINS. How the devil do I know what's to become of you? What
does it matter what becomes of you?

LIZA. You don't care. I know you don't care. You wouldn't care if
I was dead. I'm nothing to you--not so much as them slippers.

HIGGINS [thundering] THOSE slippers.

LIZA [with bitter submission] Those slippers. I didn't think it
made any difference now.

A pause. Eliza hopeless and crushed. Higgins a little uneasy.

HIGGINS [in his loftiest manner] Why have you begun going on like
this? May I ask whether you complain of your treatment here?

LIZA. No.

HIGGINS. Has anybody behaved badly to you? Colonel Pickering?
Mrs. Pearce? Any of the servants?

LIZA. No.