From what I hear, you're not much like my father either. It's hard to know what she sees in you. I never really met Father but I heard a lot about him. Tall, blond, handsome, brave, noble, kind... I could go on. He was a lot of things you're not. And yet she's forgetting him for you.

[Every word is laced with bitterness. She has no pity for this opportunistic widower. Perhaps it's her father in her that's offering protest. He doesn't deserve to lose what's rightfully his.]

It's not right. You know that, don't you?