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?
ELSIE (cordially). Oh, you are talking sense this time. It's difficult, but I shall manage him.
EDMUND. Shall you?
ELSIE (confidently). Oh yes. I couldn't do it if he were as old as you, because at your age a man's in a groove and sticks in it till he dies. Jack's not a modern, but he's young enough to learn. It's hardly credible, but at present he believes in Ruskin and Carlyle and reads Browning. Well, you know, I can't have a husband with a taste for Victorianism.