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Binet, bewildered
and profoundly shocked.
"Does it require explaining?" asked Scaramouche. "Doesn't it speak
for itself - eloquently? It means that Climene and I have taken it
into our heads to be married."
"And doesn't it matter what I may take into my head?"
"Of course. But you could have neither the bad taste nor the bad
heart to offer any obstacle."
"You take that for granted? Aye, that is your way, to be sure - to
take things for granted. But my daughter is not to be taken for
granted. I have very definite views for my daughter. You have done
an unworthy thing, Scaramouche. You have betrayed my trust in you.
I am very angry with you."
He rolled forward with his ponderous yet curiously noiseless gait.
Scaramouche turned to her, smiling, and handed her the candle.
"If you will leave us, Climene, I will ask your hand of your father
in proper form."
She vanished, a little fluttered, lovelier than ever in her mixture
of confusion and timidity. Scaramouche closed the door and faced the
enraged M.


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