Elsie. It's as good as any other place. Jack. No, it isn't. Not till I have asked his leave. Elsie. You've kissed me in the fields. Jack. I know. I've compromised with my conscience. Elsie. Jack, if the rest of you was as antiquated as your conscience, you'd be a doddering octogenarian instead of the liveliest player in the League. Have you come now to ask father's leave? Jack. I've come because he told me to last night. I might ask his leave though, now. But I think I ought to ask my mother first. Elsie. They'd better both be told at once. If you're going to Birchester, I'm coming with you. Jack. You've heard that then? Elsie. Yes. Did you hear what I said? Jack. About coming with me? Elsie. Yes. Jack. I'm willing if they are. Elsie. Who are "they"? Jack. Your father, and my mother. Suppose the banns go up next Sunday, we could get married in a month and make one bite of the wedding and the testimonial do they'll want to give me. Elsie. I couldn't be ready in a month, Jack. Jack. Well, I'm ready any time. (_She kisses him._) Oh, now Elsie, that's a foul. You know---- Elsie. You didn't kiss me. I kissed you. I do what I like in this house. Jack. It's a big house, lass. You'll find less breathing space in my seven-and-six a week house in a row, with my mother in it, and all. Elsie (_pulling him to the arm-chair and sitting herself on its arm_). I've thought it all out, Jack. It won't be a house in a row. There are moors round Birchester, and we're going to live outside the town in a dinky little cottage where the air will always keep you at the top of your form, and I shall have a garden to look after and be handy for the links. I'm going to teach you golf. I shall drop hockey when I'm married. Married life demands sacrifices. Jack. Yes. You're going to sacrifice a lot. Elsie. You're not going to begin all that over again, are you? Do you want to marry me? Jack. Like nothing on earth. Elsie. Then I get you and nothing that I lose counts against that gain. Jack. You've a fine sweet way of putting things. I just go funny-like all over and the words won't come. But I love you, lass, I love you. I'll be a good husband to you. Elsie. It's heaven to hear you say you love me. I want no sweeter words to come than those, I don't deserve it, Jack. Who am I? Elsie Whitworth. Nothing. And you're the grandest, strongest player of your time. Jack (_rising_). You think too much of football, Elsie. Elsie. That's impossible. Jack. You do. Football's as good a way as another of earning a week's wages, but that's all it is. Elsie. It's the thing you do supremely well. Jack. Yes. Now and for a few more years maybe, but I'll be an old man for football soon. Elsie. That's why I mean to teach you golf. Don't I tell you I have thought about it, Jack? You're going to be as brilliant at golf as now you are at football. I'll never lose my pride in you, your huge, hard muscles and your clean fit body.