“Till to-morrow, then, sir, my respectful homage to your sister.”
When he had gone, Marcel made his way towards the works, when he saw M. Cardez coming in his direction, even redder than usual, and with a dark frown on his brow.
“Ah, M. Marcel, I was calling to see you! I have a great deal of worry, and am indeed very pleased that you are here, so that you may understand yourself, and inform Messieurs Baradier and Graff.”
“What is the matter?”
“The fact is, the dyers are not pleased with their working hours, and threaten to come out on strike.”
“Ah! That is something fresh.”
“Fresh? No, it has been coming on for more than three weeks; the plot has only been developing. I was in hopes that, summer coming on, and the hours of daylight being more numerous, some arrangement might be reached. Now there is another cause of grievance. Instead of working more, they want to work less and earn more!”
“Ah! Are their claims justified?”
The manager, standing upright, cast a look of indignation on the son of his master.
“Are workmen’s claims ever justified? This class of people have only one programme: the minimum of work and the maximum of wages.”