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Updated: June 22, 2025
In the state of mind in which she was suddenly thrown, this precaution only made her the more anxious. "The person whom we had lost trace of," said Fabry, without looking at Perrine, "came on to Paris. There she died. Here is a copy of the death certificate. It is in the name of Marie Doressany, widow of Edmond Vulfran Paindavoine." With trembling hands the blind man took the paper.
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. She felt encouraged and went up to him.
Pipoy, with its red roofs and quaint church, and over the railway tracks which unites the towns wherein Vulfran Paindavoine has his factories, and which joins the main line to Boulogne. As Perrine passed the pretty church the people were coming out from mass.
The next morning, at the same hour as on the previous day, Monsieur Paindavoine entered the workshops, guided by the manager. Perrine wanted to go and meet him, but she could not at this moment as she was busy transmitting orders from the chief machinist to the men who were working for him masons, carpenters, smiths, mechanics.
Something that she could put on at once, or at least something that would be ready for her to wear the next day when she went out with Monsieur Paindavoine. "Ah, you are going out with Monsieur Vulfran?" said Madame Lachaise quickly; her curiosity was strung to its highest pitch at this statement.
Finally, one day a letter from Bosnia gave them some information which might lead to something. It was written in bad English, and stated that if the advertiser would place the forty pounds promised with a banker at Serajevo the writer would furnish authentic information concerning M. Edmond Paindavoine going back to the month of November of the preceding year.
"He did not return to Dacca, but I learn from one of his friends to whom he has written several times, and from Father Leclerc, who wrote regularly to Mme. Paindavoine, that they had a villa at Dehra. They selected this spot to live in as it was the center of his voyages; he traveled between the Thiberian frontier and the Himalayas.
He spoke in a loud, bullying voice which could be heard throughout the offices. As the two girls were about to go M. Vulfran Paindavoine appeared, guiding himself with his hand along the wall. "What's it all about, Talouel? What's the matter here?" "Nothing much, sir," replied the foreman. "One of the girls has hurt her hand." "Where is she?"
"You won't be lost; you are to go in the carriage," said the manager. "Here, William...." M. Paindavoine's horse and carriage, which had been standing in the shade, now drew up. "Here's the girl," said the manager to a young man. "Take her to M. Paindavoine quickly." Perrine was already down the steps, and was about to take her seat beside William when he stopped her with a sign of his hand.
The two mothers were struggling and scheming in every possible way, each to have her son alone inherit one day or another the great works of Maraucourt and the fortune which it was rumored would be more than a hundred million francs. The one, Mme. Stanislaus Paindavoine, was the wife of M. Vulfran's eldest brother, a big linen merchant.
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