JACK. It's a great thing to be strong and master of your strength.
ELSIE. Your splendid strength! Your swiftness and your grace.
JACK. But it's a greater to be clever, and I'd give up all my strength if I could write a poem like the one your brother wrote in the Blackton Evening Times.
ELSIE (contemptuously). Leo! That weakling.
JACK. He may be, but he's got a brain.
ELSIE. You're twenty times the cleverer.
JACK. Then I'm good for something better than football. I'm up in football now as high as I can get. I used to dream of being called the finest player in the League. They've called me that these last two seasons and my dream's grown bigger. I'm honoured for my play. I'd like to gain some honour now for work.
ELSIE. You've just told me football is work.
JACK. I mean brain work. A footballer's a labouring man. And I want you, Elsie. I look to you to lead me to the higher path.
ELSIE (dejectedly). You think I can!