Austin. After my proposition? Edmund. He scorned it. Austin. Second thoughts. I asked for bad play, but he's thinking of his reputation and he's broken his arm. Edmund. Deliberately? Austin. Yes. Edmund. Heroic measures, Austin. Austin. It's the last match of the season. He's all the summer months to get right in. (_Elsie returns._) Elsie. That doctor's turned me out. Austin. Of course. You've no right in there. Elsie. I've every right to be where Jack is suffering. Austin. He can suffer very well without your assistance. Elsie. You needn't be brutal about it, father. Austin. I'm not being brutal. The man's a professional footballer. He accepts the risk of a broken limb as a part of his occupation. Metherell's not a wounded hero. Edmund. No. He's simply a workman who'll doubtless receive proper compensation from his employers. Elsie. And from me. Austin. You! Elsie. This will hurry on our marriage, father. Jack needs attention now. Austin. Hasn't he got a mother? Elsie. No mother could love him as I do. No one can nurse him as tenderly as I shall. Austin. Nurse! A broken arm doesn't make an invalid of any one, especially a man in first-class physical condition. Elsie. I think it's very cruel of you to belittle Jack's injuries. Edmund. I wish you would stop calling him Jack. Elsie. It's his name. He wasn't christened John. Edmund. I refer to the impropriety of a young lady calling a workman by his Christian name. Elsie. As the young lady is going to be married to the workman in the shortest possible time, I fail to see where the impropriety comes in. Edmund. That is where we differ, my dear. Elsie. About impropriety? Edmund. No. About marriage. Elsie. Would you rather I lived with him without being married? Austin. Elsie! Elsie (_coolly_). Oh, it's all right, father. Uncle deserves a good shock. He's hopelessly suburban. Edmund (_pompously_). Elsie, I am older than you and---- Elsie (_pertly_). Yes. That's your misfortune. Edmund (_angrily_). Will you allow me to speak without interrupting? (_Austin sits in the armchair._) Elsie. Yes, if you'll speak sensibly and won't put on side because your mind's grown old and pompous as well as your body. Austin. Elsie, I won't have this rudeness to your uncle. Elsie. My dear father, uncle is being stupid. The only way to combat stupidity is rudeness. Therefore, I am rude. Edmund (_humouring her_). I propose to speak sensibly according to my lights. Elsie (_under her breath_). Ancient lights. Edmund (_reasoning_). Now, suppose we do permit you to marry this---- Elsie (_reproducing his reasonable tone_). Be careful, uncle. Talking of permission is on the border line. Edmund (_avoiding irritability_). Suppose you marry him, what interests can you have in common? I grant you he's a handsome specimen of manhood to-day, but retired athletes always run to seed. Austin (_self-consciously_). Hem! Edmund. And apart from the attraction of the flesh, what's left?