means. Rebattet for everything iced, and syrups and sorbets; they’re past-masters. As my husband would say, they’re the ne plus ultra,” “Oh, but we just make these in the house. You won’t, really?” “I shan’t be able to eat a scrap of dinner,” pleaded
Mme. Bontemps, “but I will just sit down again for a moment; you know, I adore talking to a clever woman like you.” “You will think me highly indiscreet, Odette, but I should so like to know what you thought of the hat
Mme. Trombert had on. I know, of course, that big hats are the fashion just now. All the same, wasn’t it just the least little bit exaggerated? And compared to the hat she came to see me in the other day, the one she had on just now was microscopic!” “Oh no, I am not at all clever,” said Odette, thinking that this sounded well. “I am a perfect simpleton, I believe everything people say, and worry myself to death over the least thing.” And she insinuated that she had, just at first, suffered terribly from the thought of having married a man like Swann, who had a separate life of his own and was unfaithful to her. Meanwhile the Prince d’Agrigente, having caught the words “I am not at all clever,” thought it incumbent on him to protest; unfortunately he had not the knack of repartee. “Tut, tut, tut, tut!” cried
Mme. Bontemps, “Not clever; you!” “That’s just what I was saying to myself—‘What do I hear?’,” the Prince clutched at this straw, “My ears must have played me false!” “No, I assure you,” went on Odette, “I am really just an ordinary woman, very easily shocked, full of prejudices, living in my own little groove and dreadfully ignorant.” And then, in case he had any news of the Baron de Charlus, “Have you seen our dear Baronet?” she asked him. “You, ignorant!” cried
Mme. Bontemps. “Then I wonder what you’d say of the official world, all those wives of Excellencies who can talk of nothing but their frocks. … Listen to this, my friend; not more than a week ago I happened to mention
Lohengrin to the Education Minister’s wife. She stared at me, and said ‘
Lohengrin? Oh, yes, the new review at the Folies-Bergères. I hear it’s a perfect scream!’ What do you say to that, eh? You can’t help yourself; when people say things like that it makes your blood boil. I could have struck her. Because I have a bit of a temper of my own. What do you say, sir;” she turned to me, “was I not right?” “Listen,” said
Mme. Cottard, “people can’t help answering a little off the mark when they’re asked a thing like that point blank, without any warning. I know something about it, because
Mme. Verdurin also has a habit of putting a pistol to your head.” “Speaking of
Mme. Verdurin,”
Mme. Bontemps asked
Mme. Cottard, “do you know who will be there on Wednesday? Oh, I’ve just remembered that we’ve accepted an invitation for next Wednesday. You wouldn’t care to dine with us on Wednesday week? We could go on together to
Mme. Verdurin’s. I should never dare to go there by myself; I don’t know why it is, that great lady always terrifies me.” “I’ll tell you what it is,” replied
Mme. Cottard, “what frightens you about
Mme. Verdurin is her organ. But you see everyone can’t have such a charming organ as
Mme. Swann. Once you’ve found your tongue, as the ‘Mistress’ says, the ice will soon be broken. For she’s a very easy person, really, to get on with. But I can quite understand what you feel; it’s never pleasant to find oneself for the first time in a strange country.” “Won’t you dine with us, too?” said
Mme. Bontemps to
Mme. Swann. “After dinner we could all go to the Verdurins together, ‘do a Verdurin’; and even if it means that the ‘Mistress’ will stare me out of countenance and never ask me to the house again, once we are there we’ll just sit by ourselves and have a quiet talk, I’m sure that’s what I should like best.” But this assertion can hardly have been quite truthful, for
Mme. Bontemps went on to ask: “Who do you think will be there on Wednesday week? What will they be doing? There won’t be too big a crowd, I hope!” “I certainly shan’t be there,” said Odette. “We shall just look in for a minute on the last Wednesday of all. If you don’t mind waiting till then—” But
Mme. Bontemps did not appear to be tempted by the proposal.
Granted that the intellectual distinction of a house and its smartness are generally in inverse rather than direct ratio, one must suppose, since Swann found Mme. Bontemps attractive, that any forfeiture of position once accepted has the consequence of making us less particular with regard to the people among whom we have resigned ourselves to finding entertainment, less particular with regard to their intelligence as to everything else about them. And if this be true, men, like nations, must see their culture and even their language disappear with their independence. One of the effects of this indulgence is to aggravate the tendency which after a certain age we have towards finding pleasure in speeches that are a homage to our own turn of mind, to our weaknesses, an encouragement to us to yield to them; that is the age at which a great artist prefers to the company of original minds that of pupils who have nothing in common with him save the letter of his doctrine, who listen to him and offer incense; at which a man or woman of mark, who is living entirely for love, will find that the most intelligent person in a gathering is one perhaps of no distinction, but one who has shown by some utterance that he can understand and approve
