ELSIE. Doing, I said, not being.
AUSTIN (humbly). I—er—play the piano, you know.
ELSIE. Yes, but you're not a musician within the meaning of the Act. You play the piano like a third-rate professional, too good for a public-house and not good enough for the concert platform, whereas Jack's football makes him a certainty for the England team in any international match. You may have more money than he has——
AUSTIN (glancing at window). I'm not even sure of that.
ELSIE (triumphantly). Then you've absolutely nothing on your side except a stupid and obsolete class prejudice.
AUSTIN. Upon my word, Elsie——
ELSIE (coming to him, gently). Yes, I know I'm crushing, dear.
AUSTIN. You're pitiless. Youth always is.
ELSIE. Not always, father, but you shouldn't try to argue about love.
AUSTIN. I was arguing about marriage.