ELIZA DOOLITTLE
What am I fit for? What have you left me fit for? Where am I to go? What am I to do? Whats to become of me? You dont care. I know you dont care. You wouldnt care if I was dead. I'm nothing to you—not so much as them slippers. I sold flowers. I didnt sell myself. Now youve made a lady of me I'm not fit to sell anything else. I wish youd…
