"I know how to spell words, and I know what they mean, too, without looking in a--. What did you call it?"
"Lexicon. I thought you just said you knew what words meant."
"I didn't mean big words, just words that common folks use."
"That's just what I am," Élise answered, aggressively, "and we aren't ashamed of it, either. We're just as good as anybody," she ended, with a toss of her head.
"Oh, thanks." Firmstone laughed. "I'm common folks, too."
"No, you aren't. You're a minion. M'sieu Mo-reeson says so. You're a capitalistic hireling sent out here to oppress the poor workingman. You use long tape-lines to measure up, and short rods to measure holes, and you sneak in the mill at night, and go prying round the mine, and posting notices, and--er--oh, lots of things. You ought to be ashamed of yourself." She paused in breathless indignation, looking defiantly at Firmstone.
"Looks as if I were a pretty bad lot, doesn't it? How did you find out all that?"
"I didn't have to find it out. I hear M'sieu Mo-reeson and Daddy and Luna and lots of others talking about it. Daddy says you're 'smooth, ver' smooth stuff,'" she mimicked. Élise disregarded minor contradictions. "'Twon't do you any good, though. The day is not far distant when down-trodden labour will rise and smite the oppressor. Then----" her lips were still parted, but memory failed and inspiration refused to take its place. "Oh, well," she concluded, lamely, "you'll hunt your hole all right."
"You're an out-and-out socialist, aren't you?"
"A socialist?" Élise looked aghast. "What's a socialist?"
"A socialist is one who thinks that everyone else is as unhappy and discontented as he is, and that anything that he can't get is better than what he can. Won't you be seated?" Firmstone waved her to a boulder.
Élise seated herself, but without taking her eyes from Firmstone's face.
"Because you sit there and grin and grin all the time, and use big words that you know I can't understand. Where did you learn them?"
"Oh, you've been to school, then, have you?"
"Ten or twelve years! What an awful stupid you must be!" She looked at him critically; then, with a modifying intonation, "Unless you learned a whole lot. I know I wouldn't have to go to school so long." She looked very decided. Then, after a pause, "You must have gone clear through your arithmetic. Zephyr taught me all about addition and division and fractions, clear to square root. I wanted to go through square root, but he said he didn't know anything about square root, and it wasn't any use, anyway. Did you go through square root?"