There was a moment's silence; then he turned round again to Perrine.
"If you speak English like M. Mombleux," he said mockingly, "perhaps it'd be better if you didn't go any farther.
"Shall I put you down?" he added with a grin.
"Well, I was just thinking for you; that's all," he said.
"Thank you; but I wish to go on, please."
Yet in spite of her apparent coolness, little Perrine was very nervous, because, although she was sure of her English, she did not know what sort of English the engineer spoke. As William had said mockingly, it was not the same that M. Mombleux understood. And she fully realized that there would be many technical words that she would not be able to translate. She would not understand, and she would hesitate, and then probably M. Paindavoine would be angry with her, the same as he had been with M. Mombleux.
Above the tops of the poplars she could already see the great smoking chimneys of the factories of Saint-Pipoy. She knew that spinning and weaving were done here, the same as at Maraucourt, and, besides that, it was here that they manufactured red rope and string. But whether she knew that or not, it was nothing that would help her in the task before her.
They turned the bend of the road. With a sweeping glance she could take in all the great buildings, and although these works were not so large as those of Maraucourt, they were nevertheless of considerable importance.
The carriage passed through the great iron gates and soon stopped before the main office.
He led her into an office where M. Paindavoine was seated talking to the manager of the Saint-Pipoy works.
"Here's the girl, sir," said William, holding his hat in his hand.
"Very well; you can go," said his master.
Without speaking to Perrine, M. Paindavoine made a sign to his manager to come nearer to him. Then he spoke to him in a low voice. The manager also dropped his voice to answer. But Perrine's hearing was keen, and she understood that they were speaking of her. She heard the manager reply: "A young girl, about twelve or thirteen, who looks intelligent."
"Come here, my child," said M. Paindavoine, in the same tone that she had already heard him use to Rosalie, and which was very different from that which he used for his employés.