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Henry removed his fingers from the pulsating temples and looked completely at Eliza. The girl's question, to put it mildly, surprised him.
- It's like we have nothing to do. And besides, I'm not Evelyn Nesbit to pose in front of the camera,- Higgins immediately cut off, although the idea seemed funny to him. "Why not take a joint photo for memory?" - A strange thought in the man's head flashed in response. Henry is the same forever capricious child in the body of an adult man, and childishness in character was often manifested in him. But this moment he chose to write off his own fatigue: there was absolutely no strength to argue with Eliza. After thinking, the professor agreed- okay. One photo card. It will not work - not my problem.
Eliza, without hiding a smile, corrected the wavy piece and took a more interesting position in front of the lens. Henry threw the robe on a chair, left in a shirt with a tie, set up the camera and asked the girl, - ready?
Doolittle nodded in the affirmative. Pressing the button, the professor quickly ran around the camera and stood behind Eliza, waiting for the affirmative click of the camera. At random, a good-natured grin glided on his face. His hand lay on Eliza's shoulder. Perhaps later this explains the ambiguous expression of the girl's face, in whose eyes notes of surprise were hidden.
Then both did not attach importance to this, and Henry, after showing the next day, completely forgot about the existence of such a picture. clearly remembered only Eliza, who took the Photo Card to her and kept it in her books etiquette for four months.
Freckled nose and cheeks, dark, slightly heady to the ends of the hair, which was always bandaged with a satin banter-ribbon. Always a radiant naive facial expression that was present even in her past life under a layer of street dirt, then in Covent Garden. She remained so, Higgins was convinced of this, only a secular note appeared in it inherent in higher society. But this one is the same Eliza, with her being direct, childish, and amazing self-esteem.
It is impossible to define such a strange state after viewing this photo card. He felt something that could not be called a physical or spiritual attraction - more precisely, this can be called an invisible thread that once connected them due to circumstances. But not love.
No, no, it's not love, and Higgins is clearly convinced. He does not feel what Romeo felt at the ball, or Marius, who saw Cosette. But he could not call himself completely indifferent to her.
-Damn it, I'd take all the women on earth! -Higgins concluded loudly. How much he sat here - one god knows. He did not even pay attention to how minutes earlier for some reason he turned on the Old Phonograph with a wax roller, where this disgusting but charming cockney was recorded. Because of this noisy car, he didn't hear his friend's footsteps.
-Higgins, is everything okay?
-Of course, can't you see?- surged agitated Henry, speaking in a calm even voice. He roughly folded the photo card four times, after which he turned off the phonograph.
-These were difficult and interesting times, but it is time to return to normal activities for both of us. You seem to be very tense.
- I didn't leave my activity to return to it. What makes you think I'm somehow concerned about something. Absolutely not so. Don't worry, Colonel.- Higgins calmly corrected his tie and vest without turning to Pickering. After a few moments, he tried to put all the distracting thoughts out of his head, returning to his former state.
-What kind of bag is that, Higgins?
-I'm just getting rid of unnecessary junk. I don't need him anymore. Time to release the file cabinet for new cases.
Both men did not notice the presence of another person in the hallway.
Eliza, who was standing behind the elderly colonel, almost in the very doors, slowly slid away from the house on Wimpole Street, not expressing a single emotion. For some time, only the finest aroma of field flowers lingered in the corridor.
Going outside, the girl took a deep breath. In the end, she realized that it was in the living room that Mrs. Higgins would have their last conversation. And what was she hoping for, for some reason trying to get back? hoped that they would be able to part the best friends. Apologize if she was wrong somewhere. Tell "Thank you" for all his work. Well, as it turned out, this was not as significant for Higgins: his last words said Miss Doolittle about a lot.
The last long-awaited warm sun looked, which intended to leave its mark in the golden autumn and hide behind winter clouds until spring.
Having thrown a warm jacket over a skillful, slightly fitting salmon-colored dress, Eliza most likely closed the door of the Wimpole Street house forever and headed straight along a busy street. A new world with all its possibilities was now open to her. Independent and determined, the former East End flower girl was ready to realize her long-standing dreams. After all, now, at the end of the experiment, she had the necessary finances and connections for this. Thoughts about Higgins hid in the deep closures of her consciousness.
The professor turned around. He had a strong feeling that Eliza had just been here.
-Old man, you should be divorced," Pickering concluded, after listening to Higgins, "this cannot be. I was definitely coming in alone.
-You're right, Pick,- Henry agreed after a little silence, in the old habit of calling with keys and little things in his pockets. -What about walking around Hyde Park?