PygmalionAct1CoventGardenat11.15p.m.Torrentsofheavysummerrain.Cabwhistlesblowingfranticallyinalldirections.PedestriansrunningforshelterintothemarketandundertheporticoofSt.Paul'sChurch,wheretherearealreadyseveralpeople.Theyareallpeeringoutgloomilyattherain,exceptonemanwithhisbackturnedtotherest,whoseemswhollypreoccupiedwithanotebookinwhichheiswritingbusily.Thechurchclockstrikesthefirstquarter.Ayoungmanoftwenty,ineveningdress,openshisumbrellaanddashesoffontothestreettostopapassingtaxi,butcomesintocollisionwithaflowergirl,whoishurryinginforshelter,knockingherbasketoutofherhands.Ablindingflashoflightning,followedinstantlybyarattlingpealofthunder,orchestratestheincident.]THEFLOWERGIRL:Nahthen,lookwh'y'gowin,deah.TheYOUNGMAN:Sorry[herushesoff].THEFLOWERGIRL:[pickingupherscatteredflowersandreplacingtheminthebasket]There'smennersf'yer!Te-oobanchesovoyletstrodintothemad.[Shesitsdownontheplinthofthecolumn,sortingherflowers,ontherightofanoldlady.Sheisnotatallanattractiveperson.Sheisperhapseighteen,perhapstwenty,hardlyolder.ShewearsalittlesailorhatofblackstrawthathaslongbeenexposedtothedustandsootofLondonandhasseldomifeverbeenbrushed.Herhairneedswashingratherbadly:itsmousycolorcanhardlybenatural.Shewearsashoddyblackcoatthatreachesnearlytoherkneesandisshapedtoherwaist.Shehasabrownskirtwithacoarseapron.Herbootsaremuchtheworseforwear.Sheisnodoubtascleanasshecanaffordtobe;butcomparedtotheladiessheisverydirty.Herfeaturesarenoworsethantheirs;buttheirconditionleavessomethingtobedesired;andsheneedstheservicesofadentist].[Anelderlygentlemanoftheamiablemilitarytyperushesintoshelter,andclosesadrippingumbrella.HeisinthesameplightasFreddy,verywetabouttheankles.Heisineveningdress,withalightovercoat.Hetakestheplaceleftvacantbythedaughter'sretirement.]THEGENTLEMAN:Phew!TheOLDLADY:[tothegentleman]Oh,sir,isthereanysignofitsstopping?THEGENTLEMAN:I'mafraidnot.Itstartedworsethaneverabouttwominutesago.[Hegoestotheplinthbesidetheflowergirl;putsuphisfootonit;andstoopstoturndownhistrouserends].THEOL...