“But,” he continued, in a honeyed tone, “Monsieur le baron, on such occasions our duties are preceded by--efforts at--conciliation--Deign, therefore, to have the goodness to listen to me--It is in evidence that Mademoiselle Ginevra di Piombo--attains this very day--the age at which the law allows a respectful summons before proceeding to the celebration of a marriage--in spite of the non-consent of the parents. Now--it is usual in families--who enjoy a certain consideration--who belong to society--who preserve some dignity--to whom, in short, it is desirable not to let the public into the secret of their differences--and who, moreover, do not wish to injure themselves by blasting with reprobation the future of a young couple (for--that is injuring themselves), it is usual, I say--among these honorable families--not to allow these summonses--to take place--or remain--a monument to--divisions which should end--by ceasing--Whenever, monsieur, a young lady has recourse to respectful summons, she exhibits a determination too marked to allow of a father--of a mother,” here he turned to the baroness, “hoping or expecting that she will follow their wishes--Paternal resistance being null--by reason of this fact--in the first place--and also from its being nullified by law, it is customary--for every sensible man--after making a final remonstrance to his child--and before she proceeds to the respectful summons--to leave her at liberty to--” Monsieur Roguin stopped, perceiving that he might talk on for two hours without obtaining any answer; he felt, moreover, a singular emotion at the aspect of the man he was attempting to convert. An extraordinary revolution had taken place on Piombo’s face; his wrinkles, contracting into narrow lines, gave him a look of indescribable cruelty, and he cast upon the notary the glance of a tiger. The baroness was mute and passive. Ginevra, calm and resolute, waited silently; she knew that the notary’s voice was more potent than hers, and she seemed to have decided to say nothing. At the moment when Roguin ceased speaking, the scene had become so terrifying that the men who were there as witnesses trembled; never, perhaps, had they known so awful a silence. The notaries looked at each other, as if in consultation, and finally rose and walked to the window. “Did you ever meet people born into the world like that?” asked Roguin of his brother notary. “You can’t get anything out of him,” replied the younger man. “In your place, I should simply read the summons. That old fellow isn’t a comfortable person; he is furious, and you’ll gain nothing whatever by arguing with him.” Monsieur Roguin then read a stamped paper, containing the “respectful summons,” prepared for the occasion; after which he proceeded to ask Bartolomeo what answer he made to it. “Are there laws in France which destroy paternal authority?--” demanded the Corsican. “Monsieur--” said Roguin, in his honeyed tones.