"You are speaking of my future husband," she reproved him.
His lips tightened too; his pale face grew paler.
"And is it so?
It is settled, then?
Your uncle is to agree?
You are to be sold thus, lovelessly, into bondage to a man you do not know.

I had dreamed of better things for you, Aline." "Better than to be Marquise de La Tour d'Azyr ?" He made a gesture of exasperation.

"Are men and women nothing more than names?
Do the souls of them count for nothing?
Is there no joy in life, no happiness, that wealth and pleasure and empty, high-sounding titles are to be its only aims?
I had set you high--so high, Aline--a thing scarce earthly.

There is joy in your heart, intelligence in your mind; and, as I thought, the vision that pierces husks and shams to claim the core of reality for its own.

Yet you will surrender all for a parcel of make-believe.