Well?
Brauer.
My child loves you. You are her ideal, her all, and the wedding must take place. But tell me, what right have you to all this pride--I might even say arrogance?
George.
Must I perhaps ask your permission----?
Brauer.
That is the same old defiance, the same unreasonable stubbornness of your father's!!!!!
George.
[Starts.] My father has been dead these twenty years--what do you want of him now?