I forget my disappointment, I forget that this young lady whom you offer me for a wife has a dot so pitifully small that it counts for nothing.

I take her.

I accept her.

Jeanne," he added, moving towards her, "you hear?
It is because I love you so very, very much." Jeanne shrank back in her chair.
"You mean," she cried, "that you are willing to take me now that you know everything, now that you know I have so little money?
You mean that you want to marry me still ?" The Count assented graciously.

Never in the course of his whole life, had he admired himself so much.
"I forget everything," he declared, with a little wave of the hand, "except that I love you, and that you are the one woman in the world whom I wish to make the Comtesse de Brensault.