'This can't be gone,' said Marie, nodding her head at the papers.
'Marie,--do you wish to see me disgraced and ruined? I have done a great deal for you.'
'You turned away the only person I ever cared for,' said Marie.
'Marie, how can you be so wicked? Do as your papa bids you,' said Madame Melmotte.
'No!' said Melmotte. 'She does not care who is ruined, because we saved her from that reprobate.'
'She will sign them now,' said Madame Melmotte.
'No;--I will not sign them,' said Marie. 'If I am to be married to Lord Nidderdale as you all say, I am sure I ought to sign nothing without telling him. And if the property was once made to be mine, I don't think I ought to give it up again because papa says that he is going to be ruined. I think that's a reason for not giving it up again.'
'It isn't yours to give. It's mine,' said Melmotte gnashing his teeth.
'Then you can do what you like with it without my signing,' said Marie.
He paused a moment, and then laying his hand gently upon her shoulder, he asked her yet once again. His voice was changed, and was very hoarse. But he still tried to be gentle with her. 'Marie,' he said, 'will you do this to save your father from destruction?'
But she did not believe a word that he said to her. How could she believe him? He had taught her to regard him as her natural enemy, making her aware that it was his purpose to use her as a chattel for his own advantage, and never allowing her for a moment to suppose that aught that he did was to be done for her happiness. And now, almost in a breath, he had told her that this money was wanted that it might be settled on her and the man to whom she was to be married, and then that it might be used to save him from instant ruin. She believed neither one story nor the other. That she should have done as she was desired in this matter can hardly be disputed. The father had used her name because he thought that he could trust her. She was his daughter and should not have betrayed his trust. But she had steeled herself to obstinacy against him in all things. Even yet, after all that had passed, although she had consented to marry Lord Nidderdale, though she had been forced by what she had learned to despise Sir Felix Carbury, there was present to her an idea that she might escape with the man she really loved. But any such hope could depend only on the possession of the money which she now claimed as her own. Melmotte had endeavoured to throw a certain supplicatory pathos into the question he had asked her; but, though he was in some degree successful with his voice, his eyes and his mouth and his forehead still threatened her. He was always threatening her. All her thoughts respecting him reverted to that inward assertion that he might 'cut her to pieces' if he liked. He repeated his question in the pathetic strain. 'Will you do this now,--to save us all from ruin?' But his eyes still threatened her.