"I have thrown myself at my father's feet; he repulsed me."

Maurice was thunderstruck, but recovering himself:

"It was because you did not know how to speak to him!" he exclaimed in
a passion of fury; "but I shall know--I will present such arguments that
he will be forced to yield. What right has he to ruin my happiness with
his caprices? I love you---by right of this love, you are mine--mine
rather than his! I will make him understand this, you shall see. Where
is he? Where can I find him?"

Already he was starting to go, he knew not where. Marie-Anne caught him
by the arm.

"Remain," she commanded, "remain! So you have failed to understand me,
Maurice. Ah, well! you must know the truth. I am acquainted now with the
reasons of my father's refusal; and though his decision should cost me
my life, I approve it. Do not go to find my father. If, moved by your
prayers, he gave his consent, I should have the courage to refuse mine!"

Maurice was so beside himself that this reply did not enlighten him.
Crazed with anger and despair, and with no remorse for the insult he
addressed to this woman whom he loved so deeply, he exclaimed:

"Is it for Chanlouineau, then, that you are reserving your consent? He
believes so since he goes about everywhere saying that you will soon be
his wife."

Marie-Anne shuddered as if a knife had entered her very heart; and yet
there was more sorrow than anger in the glance she cast upon Maurice.