Pygmalion.
Chapter 1 – Encounter. The rain had been falling all afternoon, a persistent, gray drizzle that turned the streets of London into rivers of reflection. In the corner of a modest room above a forgotten bakery, Eliza Doolittle sat, hands clasped, trying to make sense of the strange appointment that had brought her here. She was not unfamiliar with curiosity or expectation—poverty demands attentiveness—but today, the weight of uncertainty pressed differently. Professor Henry Higgins entered without knocking, his presence immediate, almost intrusive. Yet it was not mere confidence that marked him; it was the precision of observation, a quiet dissection of the human form. His eyes did not linger on her modest dress or rough hands. Instead, they traveled beneath the surface, measuring hesitation, pride, and fear, as though he could map the terrain of her soul without a single word. “Eliza,” he said, voice calm but deliberate, “do you understand why you are here?” She nodded, though...