Lionel dared not hesitate and began searching the building for any office that might have information about "Emile."
"Translation Department," "Insurance Affairs Department," "Shipping Routes and Maps Department," "Export Department," "Procurement Department," "Customs Affairs Department"...
These were all large departments open for business, and Lionel saw many interesting new things.
For example, on a large desk in the "Procurement Department," a man with a small mustache inserted a transparent glass ball onto a black box, then pulled a handbrake on the box.
With a "zzzz" sound, the glass ball lit up, emitting a dazzling, brilliant white light, no less bright than the gas lamps on the wall.
"Wow!" exclaimed everyone in the office.
"This is called an 'electric light'!"
The man with the mustache began explaining proudly,
"It uses electric current to bring light to humans.
It has no unpleasant smell, produces no choking smoke, and doesn't need gas added to it every day..."
Before he finished speaking, the "electric light" suddenly brightened several degrees, flickered twice, and finally let out a "whimper" before suddenly going out.
"It doesn't need gas added every day, but it needs a new bulb every day..." a clerk quipped.
Everyone else laughed, and the office was filled with cheerful air!
The man with the mustache didn't feel embarrassed at all; instead, he pushed even harder:
"This is due to unstable current...
In Professor Joseph Swan's London laboratory, it can glow stably for hundreds of hours, and I believe this number will soon double..."
(Joseph Swan was one of the early inventors of the electric light, later co-founding a joint venture with Edison)
Lionel resisted the urge to shout
"Not current, not current; it's vacuum, it's vacuum!" and continued walking.
As he passed the "Sales Department," a man was pushing a strange two-wheeled vehicle, chattering incessantly:
"Believe me, the British fitted this 'bicycle' with a chain and sprocket, making it light and effortless to ride.
The 'bicycles' postmen ride now are as clunky as a dying old horse.
The government will soon replace them...
As long as 'Orby' procures a batch first..."
The "Sales Department" clerk was hesitant:
"Too expensive, too expensive.
You want to sell it for 600 francs just for adding two devices?
The government won't agree to issue them..."
Lionel again suppressed the urge to shout
"It's missing rubber tires! It's missing rubber tires!"
He suddenly had a feeling that although France in 1879 was a full 150 years away from the era he was familiar with, in some respects, it was only "one step away" from the "modern life" he knew...
Both the "electric light" and "bicycle" in the modern sense were actually British inventions.
However, for these new gadgets to be accepted across Europe, and even in the American and Asian markets, whether they could first become popular in France, in Paris, was an important prerequisite.
If London was the world's "capital of creation" in this era, then Paris was the world's "capital of consumption."
Every inventor and adventurer yearned for the refined, vain, and pleasure-loving Parisians to be the first to use their new wares...
As he was thinking, the sign for the "Colonial Communications Office" appeared before him.
Remembering that "Emile" boasted about having a farm in Guyana and also conned his family into investing in digging the Panama Canal, it suggested that his "business" was mainly overseas?
Lionel tidied his clothes, smoothed his hair with his hand, calmed himself, and walked in.
It was a small office, with only one desk.
Behind the desk, three walls were lined with tall, wide cabinets, each cabinet filled with small compartments, and each compartment had a brass nameplate.
Behind the desk sat a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, with long black hair coiled into a low bun, held as firm as a rock by a brown hairnet and silver hairpins.
She wore a stiffly ironed grey-blue cinched blouse, with cuffs washed white; buttons fastened from her throat to her chest, more secure than a border defense line.
She looked up, saw a strange young man, and asked in a calm, unruffled tone, "Good afternoon!"
Lionel offered a harmless smile:
"Good afternoon—I'd like to inquire about sending a letter to Mr. 'Emile'..."
The young woman's reply was still as smooth as a lake:
"Mr. 'Emile'?
We have many Mr. 'Emiles' in our company.
Which one are you looking for?"
"Emile" was a common name in France, and Lionel indeed didn't know his surname or middle name.
He could only try to be vague using the information from the family letter:
"He's the Emile who was previously a manager in America... the South American branch, and recently he might have gone to the Alpes province..."
The young woman was clearly suspicious of his hesitation:
"Didn't he give you a business card?"
As the headquarters of one of France's largest trading companies, this building handled over a million francs in wealth daily, so many swindlers tried their luck here, and she was used to it.
She turned sideways alertly, her hand resting on the call bell button.
Lionel took a deep breath and carefully observed the young woman in front of him, noticing that the stitching on the left shoulder of her jacket was slightly crooked, clearly sewn by herself or her mother.
In this era, it was quite rare for literate women to "show their faces" in public.
They usually came from middle-class families, either taught to read and write by their fathers or having attended convent schools.
They would choose to work due to difficult family financial situations or to save for their dowry.
However, most of this group would choose to be governesses for wealthy merchants or aristocrats; working in such a busy place was even rarer.
After all, the prevailing expectation for women in this era was still "good wife and wise mother," and the Napoleonic Code (i.e., the Civil Code) granted husbands absolute legal authority over their wives.
Lionel hardened his heart, put away his social smile, and spoke with sincere emotion:
"My name is Lionel, Lionel Sorel, from the Alpes, and I am currently a student at the Sorbonne."
Hearing Lionel say this, the young woman relaxed her guard slightly:
"Then what do you want?"
Lionel looked into her eyes as gently and somewhat sadly as possible:
"Actually, I'm here for my family in the Alpes."
Immediately afterward, he laid out everything about "Emile," his family's situation, and his own worries, finally stating earnestly:
"I apologize, I did lie just now...
But I did it for my family, for my father who is almost blind from copying all day, for my mother whose back is hunched from daily labor;
And my sister, my poor sister Ivanna, she is so eager for love that she lost her head..."
At this point, he keenly noticed a glimmer of water in the young woman's eyes and quickly added:
"I don't want to gain any profit from 'Orby'; I just want my family far away in the Alpes to be safe and sound...
Moreover, if this 'Emile' is truly a swindler, it would also tarnish 'Orby's' reputation, wouldn't you agree?"
After listening to Lionel's explanation, the young woman pondered for a moment, then whispered to him,
"There are too many people right now...
After work, wait for me at the 'Seine Sunset' café."
Lionel nodded knowingly, without further questioning, and then smiled again:
"I thank you for your kindness on behalf of my family—Oh, by the way, has anyone ever told you that your eyes are beautiful?
Like the waters of Lake Geneva..."
The young woman's face immediately turned red.
She lowered her head and stammered,
"...Someone has said that before, how did you know?"
Lionel didn't answer but asked, "I still don't know your name?"
The young woman looked up, her beautiful brown eyes sparkling:
"My name is Sophie, Sophie Deneuve."
(End of chapter)
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