Now, after such a proof of her goodness, could he permit her to suffer so much grief?
Like her, he would be willing to give up everything, to die even, if it might be, and he realised that he was cowardly.

He despised himself for not being at her side, that they might pass out of life together, by the same breath.
Was it possible that anyone could be so cruel as to wish to torment them, that they should both have so sad a death, when one word, one simple word, would secure them such bliss?
Ah! the pride of name, the glory of wealth, persistence in one's determination: all these were nothing in comparison to the fact that by the union of two hearts the eternal happiness of two human beings was assured.

He joined his hands together, he twisted them feverishly, quite beside himself as he demanded his father's consent, still supplicating, already almost threatening.

But the Bishop, with face deeply flushed by the mounting of his blood, with swollen lips, with flaming eyes, terrible in his unexpressed anger, at last opened his mouth, only to reply by this word of parental authority: "Never!" Then Felicien, absolutely raving in his rebellion, lost all control over himself.
He spoke of his mother, he really threatened his father by the remembrance of the dead.

It was she who had come back again in the shape of her son to vindicate and reclaim the right of affection.