JACK. I know you can. You've got a fancy now for football, but it's not your real self. You're a cultured woman.
ELSIE (interrupting). Culture doesn't count.
JACK (proceeding). You've gone beyond the things that puzzle me. You're at the other side. Why, Elsie, there are things in Browning that I can't make out, and Walter Pater has me beat to atoms.
ELSIE. Those aren't the real things, Jack.
JACK. They're real enough to be the things that made me want you. I could pick and choose from lots of women fit to talk of football to me, but I'm tired of football. You're the only woman who can talk to me of other things—and you won't.
ELSIE. You're tired of football!
JACK. Not of the game. Sick of the eternal jaw about it.
ELSIE. Well, I'm sick of books.
JACK. You can't be that. Books last.
ELSIE. Your fame will last. Books aren't the real thing.