"I refuse it you," cried Hummel. "You mistake my words. I do not think of throwing my daughter into this bargain also. But you must not misunderstand my refusal to give you my daughter; your duty is to pursue her more fiercely than ever. You must attack me, and force yourself into my house; in return for which I reserve to myself the right to show you the way out. But I have always said it, you are wanting in courage."
"Mr. Hummel," replied the Doctor, with dignity, "allow me to remark that you should no longer be on the offensive with me."
"Why not?" asked Hummel.
The Doctor pointed to the papers.
"What has happened in this matter makes it difficult for me to use strong language to you. It can be no pleasure to you to attack one who cannot defend himself."
"These pretentions are really ridiculous," replied Hummel. "Because I have given you my money must I cease to treat you as you deserve? Because you, perhaps, are not disinclined to marry my daughter, am I to stroke you with a velvet brush? Did one ever hear such nonsense?"
"You mistake," continued the Doctor, civilly, "if you think that I am not in a position to answer what you say. I therefore do myself the honor of remarking to you that your mockery is so wounding that even the kindness you have shown loses its value."
"Have done with your kindness--it was only kindness from revenge."
"Then I will as honestly tell you," continued the Doctor, "that it was a very bitter hour to me when you entered our house. I knew how oppressive the obligation which you then conferred upon us would be for the rest of my life. But I looked at my poor father, and the thought of his misery closed my mouth. For my own part, I would rather have begged my bread than taken your money."
"Go on," cried Hummel.