"Oh! it was awful. I went into her room and told her my little story
that I had carefully prepared. She grew pale, and then she cried:
'Never, never.' I cried, I grew angry. I vowed I would marry no one but
you. I thought that she was going to strike me. She went on just as if
she were mad; she declared that I should be sent back to the convent the
next day. I had never seen her like that--never. Then papa came in,
hearing her shouting all her nonsense. He was not so angry as she was,
but he declared that you were not a good enough match. As they had put
me in a rage, too, I shouted louder than they did. And papa told me to
leave the room, with a melodramatic air that did not suit him at all.
This is what decided me to run off with you. Here I am. Where are we
going to?"
He had passed his arm gently round her and was listening with all his
ears, his heart throbbing, and a ravenous hatred awakening within him
against these people. But he had got their daughter. They should just
see.
He answered: "It is too late to catch a train, so this cab will take us
to Sevres, where we shall pass the night. To-morrow we shall start for
La Roche-Guyon. It is a pretty village on the banks of the Seine,
between Nantes and Bonnieres."