Pygmalion | Page 8

haw ya flahr orf a pore gel."
THE FLOWER GIRL [much distressed] It's because I called him
Captain. I meant no harm. [To the gentleman] Oh, sir, don't let him lay
a charge agen me for a word like that. You--
THE GENTLEMAN. Charge! I make no charge. [To the note taker]
Really, sir, if you are a detective, you need not begin protecting me
against molestation by young women until I ask you. Anybody could
see that the girl meant no harm.
THE BYSTANDERS GENERALLY [demonstrating against police
espionage] Course they could. What business is it of yours? You mind
your own affairs. He wants promotion, he does. Taking down people's
words! Girl never said a word to him. What harm if she did? Nice thing
a girl can't shelter from the rain without being insulted, etc., etc., etc.

[She is conducted by the more sympathetic demonstrators back to her
plinth, where she resumes her seat and struggles with her emotion].
THE BYSTANDER. He ain't a tec. He's a blooming busybody: that's
what he is. I tell you, look at his boots.
THE NOTE TAKER [turning on him genially] And how are all your
people down at Selsey?
THE BYSTANDER [suspiciously] Who told you my people come
from Selsey?
THE NOTE TAKER. Never you mind. They did. [To the girl] How do
you come to be up so far east? You were born in Lisson Grove.
THE FLOWER GIRL [appalled] Oh, what harm is there in my leaving
Lisson Grove? It wasn't fit for a pig to live in; and I had to pay
four-and-six a week. [In tears] Oh, boo--hoo--oo--
THE NOTE TAKER. Live where you like; but stop that noise.
THE GENTLEMAN [to the girl] Come, come! he can't touch you: you
have a right to live where you please.
A SARCASTIC BYSTANDER [thrusting himself between the note
taker and the gentleman] Park Lane, for instance. I'd like to go into the
Housing Question with you, I would.
THE FLOWER GIRL [subsiding into a brooding melancholy over her
basket, and talking very low-spiritedly to herself] I'm a good girl, I am.
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER [not attending to her] Do you know
where I come from?
THE NOTE TAKER [promptly] Hoxton.
Titterings. Popular interest in the note taker's performance increases.
THE SARCASTIC ONE [amazed] Well, who said I didn't? Bly me!
You know everything, you do.
THE FLOWER GIRL [still nursing her sense of injury] Ain't no call to
meddle with me, he ain't.
THE BYSTANDER [to her] Of course he ain't. Don't you stand it from
him. [To the note taker] See here: what call have you to know about
people what never offered to meddle with you? Where's your warrant?
SEVERAL BYSTANDERS [encouraged by this seeming point of law]
Yes: where's your warrant?
THE FLOWER GIRL. Let him say what he likes. I don't want to have
no truck with him.
THE BYSTANDER. You take us for dirt under your feet, don't you?

Catch you taking liberties with a gentleman!
THE SARCASTIC BYSTANDER. Yes: tell HIM where he come from
if you want to go fortune-telling.
THE NOTE TAKER. Cheltenham, Harrow, Cambridge, and India.
THE GENTLEMAN. Quite right. [Great laughter. Reaction in the note
taker's favor. Exclamations of He knows all about it. Told him proper.
Hear him tell the toff where he come from? etc.]. May I ask, sir, do you
do this for your living at a music hall?
THE NOTE TAKER. I've thought of that. Perhaps I shall some day.
The rain has stopped; and the persons on the outside of the crowd begin
to drop off.
THE FLOWER GIRL [resenting the reaction] He's no gentleman, he
ain't, to interfere with a poor girl.
THE DAUGHTER [out of patience, pushing her way rudely to the
front and displacing the gentleman, who politely retires to the other
side of the pillar] What on earth is Freddy doing? I shall get pneumonia
if I stay in this draught any longer.
THE NOTE TAKER [to himself, hastily making a note of her
pronunciation of "monia"] Earlscourt.
THE DAUGHTER [violently] Will you please keep your impertinent
remarks to yourself?
THE NOTE TAKER. Did I say that out loud? I didn't mean to. I beg
your pardon. Your mother's Epsom, unmistakeably.
THE MOTHER [advancing between her daughter and the note taker]
How very curious! I was brought up in Largelady Park, near Epsom.
THE NOTE TAKER [uproariously amused] Ha! ha! What a devil of a
name! Excuse me. [To the daughter] You want a cab, do you?
THE DAUGHTER. Don't dare speak to me.
THE MOTHER. Oh, please, please Clara. [Her daughter repudiates her
with an angry shrug and retires haughtily.] We should be so grateful to
you, sir, if you found us a cab. [The note taker produces a