"My consent?" echoed the marquis, and his anger flared up once more. "Never! No, never! This is no mere caprice, as you must know. It concerns the thing that has been the mainspring of my whole existence. As for the authority in the name of which I forbid--you understand, I forbid--this marriage, you can defy it and violate it. The shocking laws of the present day allow you to do so; but if you dare, you will do a worse thing than if you had broken in the door of Hugueville church the other day. You will insult your father.--I prefer to believe," he continued, after another silence, during which he had visibly striven to control himself, "I prefer to believe that you will reflect. You hesitated at Hugueville, and then the Claviers blood won the day over the poison of modern ideas with which I cannot see how you have become infected. This marriage out of your class is another case of revolt against prejudices. If our ancestors had not had them, these prejudices, for well-nigh eight hundred years, you and I would not be Claviers-Grandchamps. If you choose, from weakness, from aberration of mind, to cease to behave like one of them, an infamous code forbids me to prevent you, but know this, that I shall die of despair!--Nothing! he cares nothing for that!" he continued, rising and pacing the floor. "He does not answer!--When I see you thus, speechless, obstinate, insensible to my suffering, I do not believe my eyes. But answer me, pray! Speak to me! Ask me for further time, at least, so that I may not go away upon those horrible words, that threat against your father. For you did threaten me. You said: 'I shall have to! I shall have to!'--Come, Landri, say that you will regret those words, say that I have moved you." "You tear my heart," the young man replied. "But I have given my word. I shall keep it. I shall marry Madame Olier."