Then, sighing, he added: "My son's fate is in your hands.

Decide, my dear, good, gentle Marie, whom I have always loved as a daughter!" He drew back and a real tear appeared in his eye.

"Fr... fr..." snorted Prince Bolkonski.

" The prince is making a proposition to you in his pupil's--I mean, his son's--name.

Do you wish or not to be Prince Anatole Kuragin's wife? Reply: yes or no," he shouted, "and then I shall reserve the right to state my opinion also.