EDMUND. That's a high falutin' name for a flirtation with a footballer.
ELSIE. It's a name I thought you'd understand. Personally I'd say I've got the sex clutch on and other things don't matter. Any more shots, uncle?
EDMUND. You needn't flatter yourself you've talked me into consenting to this marriage.
ELSIE. Nobody asked you, sir, she said.
EDMUND (angrily). Nobody——
ELSIE (easily conversational). Wouldn't it interest you to see how the game's going, uncle?
EDMUND (relieved). I think it would. But don't you think you've heard the last of me.
ELSIE (sympathetically). No, but you want time to think out a few more objections.
EDMUND. I am going purely out of desire to witness the match.
(Exit Edmund.)