“Mr. Lambert—sir—I—er—I—”
“Do you wish to marry my daughter?”
“Yes, sir. Exactly.”
“Then why don’t you say so?”
“I do say so, sir.”
“And you wish to ask my permission?”
“Yes, sir—just so. I do ask your permission.”
“Well, sir,” said Mr. Lambert, removing his spectacles, and polishing them slowly on his handkerchief. “It is not granted.”
Here Elise began to weep, but disregarding her distress, Mr. Lambert continued,
“And I should advise you, sir, to keep to that very excellent plan of yours to depart, at once.”