Debussy's face flushed slightly, but he still said firmly,
"I've decided to accept Madame Meck's invitation to go to Russia and serve as her family pianist."
Lionel was somewhat surprised.
Although going to the cold land of Russia to earn some quick money was a choice many Parisian artists made when in distress, he knew that Debussy wasn't short on money lately.
Since the immense success of "The Choir," he had been continuously receiving music commissions.
Lionel hesitated for a moment, then asked him,
"Have you decided? Russia is very far, and the winters are very cold."
Debussy's reply was filled with longing,
"Yes. I want to see that land with my own eyes and hear its music. Mr. Tchaikovsky, there's something different in his music. 'The Choir' helped me gain a foothold, but now, I need to go out into the world."
Lionel knew this was Debussy's artistic pursuit and that further persuasion would be useless, so he patted his shoulder.
"This is good, Achille. Art needs nourishment; it needs to experience different cultures. When are you leaving?"
Debussy replied,
"I'll leave in a couple of days. If I delay any longer, Russia will be too cold, and the train only runs once a week. I'll miss Paris, and I'll miss the coffee here."
He made a rare joke, lightening the atmosphere.
After chatting with Debussy, Lionel turned to his next "visitor."
He approached Director Perrin and said,
"Émile, what's going on with the Comédie-Française lately?"
Émile Perrin looked worried.
"Lion, 'A Doll's House' is simply too successful! Almost as successful as your 'The Choir'!
From its premiere in October until now, the entire Parisian drama market and theatrical reviews have revolved around it.
It's been continuously playing for 20 performances at the Paris Opéra, every show sold out, with even the aisles and corridors packed with people!
Everyone wants to get a ticket to 'A Doll's House,' and the Comédie-Française has completely become the audience's 'second choice'…"
Lionel interrupted his complaints, asking,
"Does the Comédie-Française have no other new plays? Like Mr. Dumas fils, his works are always popular…"
Émile Perrin spread his hands.
"He hasn't submitted a new script to the Comédie-Française in four years… Mr. Hugo isn't writing new scripts either."
Lionel also felt a bit helpless.
"But it's almost December now. Even if I start writing immediately, it's impossible to catch the Christmas season performances."
Émile Perrin quickly said,
"Of course, it's too late for the Christmas season. I'm pinning my hopes on next year—next year, if you have any good script ideas, please contact me immediately! I believe our cooperation will be seamless!"
Lionel could only nod.
"Alright—but that will have to wait until I find inspiration."
Director Perrin knew that pressing him was useless and was overjoyed to receive this promise.
"Excellent! Lionel, the Comédie-Française's box office next year depends on you!"
After seeing off the eager director, Lionel could finally sit down and face the thick stack of documents brought by Monsieur Delaroue.
The notary clearly pointed out each place requiring a signature, primarily the legal documents for establishing the "Sorel-Peugeot Mechanical Manufacturing Company."
There were also the first batch of typewriter order contracts, drafted based on Sophie's market analysis, for sale in London and New York.
Delaroue explained,
"Monsieur Armand Peugeot hopes to expand production as quickly as possible. Our bicycle prototype received extremely high praise in internal testing."
Lionel quickly scanned the terms, confirming they matched what had been previously discussed, then signed his name at the end of the documents.
After handling the most urgent legal documents, he finally had a chance to approach Pierre Curie and Henri Poincaré, who had been waiting patiently.
The two scientists immediately rekindled their enthusiasm, pulling out drafts covered in complex formulas and began to elaborate on their latest calculations for bearings and typewriter hammers.
Although Lionel possessed advanced concepts, in terms of specific mathematical and physical derivations, he could only act as a "product manager," raising questions and needs.
He affirmed their direction but also clearly stated that improved models would only be considered for additional investment after the sales results and user feedback from the first batch of products.
When only Lionel, Sophie, and Alice remained in the living room, the twilight of dusk had already begun to spill in through the windows.
Lionel let out a long sigh of relief, collapsing into an armchair, feeling more exhausted than after dictating the entire "The Sign of the Four."
Sophie walked over and handed him a cup of warm tea.
"Welcome home, Lion. It seems everyone couldn't wait to see you."
Alice also came over, with a mischievous smile on her face.
"Lion, while you were away, the apartment almost turned into a club."
Lionel took the cup, took a sip, and felt a bit more relaxed.
He looked at Sophie, then at Alice, his gaze finally landing on the document they had been studying together earlier.
His tone became much more cautious:
"So, you two… what 'big business' are you secretly plotting now?"
Sophie and Alice exchanged a smile.
Alice picked up the document, which was the accounts and future plan for the "Sorel-Rorschach Typewriting Cooperative."
Alice explained,
"Miss Sophie helped me analyze the cooperative's operations in detail. Simply expanding the scope of transcription is indeed not a long-term solution.
We've already made plans to gradually transform into a typing school in the future, training more typists, and we can also promote our typewriters."
Alice's tone was full of admiration.
Sophie added,
"Alice has a great talent for management; she keeps the cooperative very well organized. We were just discussing some of the details of the transition and the difficulties we might encounter."
Lionel watched the naturally harmonious state between the two of them, and he sincerely praised,
"This is an excellent plan. It seems you've handled everything wonderfully while I was away."
Patty poked her head out from the kitchen at this moment.
"Young master, dinner is ready! Today I made oxtail tomato soup, and I even added some potatoes!"
She then carried a soup pot and placed it on the dining table.
When the lid was lifted, the aroma of the food filled the air, dispelling the last trace of hustle and bustle in the living room, along with Lionel's fatigue.
Lionel stood up and made a "please" gesture to Sophie and Alice.
He said with a smile,
"Alright, ladies, today's meeting is over. Now, it's family dinner time. Whatever else we have to say, we can continue at the dinner table."
Outside the window, Paris's lights twinkled on one by one, warming the cold night.
Inside the apartment, the steam from the oxtail soup diffused, temporarily masking the distractions of literature, drama, business, and science, leaving only the mundane warmth of everyday life.
Lionel knew that tomorrow would still be very busy; but at this moment, he just wanted to enjoy this moment of peace…
(End of Chapter)