Bildungsromans; France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Villages -- France -- Fiction
shades which will filter the light. It is evidently a charming luxury,
for those who can afford it. But it seems that our contemporaries must
absolutely have the newest thing if it's the only one of its kind in the
world. Just fancy, the sister-in-law of a friend of mine has had the
telephone installed in her house! She can order things from her
tradesmen without having to go out of doors! I confess that I've made
the most bare-faced stratagems to get permission to go there one day,
just to speak into the instrument. It's very tempting, but more in a
friend's house than at home. I don't think I should like to have the
telephone in my establishment. Once the first excitement is over, it
must be a perfect racket going on all the time. Now, Odette, I must be
off; you're not to keep Mme. Bontemps any longer, she's looking after
me. I must absolutely tear myself away; you're making me behave in a
nice way, I shall be getting home after my husband!"
And for myself also it was time to return home, before I had tasted
those wintry delights of which the chrysanthemums had seemed to me to be
the brilliant envelope. These pleasures had not appeared, and yet Mme.
Swann did not look as though she expected anything more. She allowed the
servants to carry away the tea-things, as who should say "Time, please,
gentlemen!" And at last she did say to me: "Really, must you go? Very
well; good-bye!" I felt that I might have stayed there without
encountering those unknown pleasures, and that my unhappiness was not
the cause of my having to forego them. Were they to be found, then,
situated not upon that beaten track of hours which leads one always to
the moment of departure, but rather upon some cross-road unknown to me
along which I ought to have digressed? At least, the object of my visit
had been attained; Gilberte would know that I had come to see her
parents when she was not at home, and that I had, as Mme. Cottard had
incessantly assured me, "made a complete conquest, first shot, of Mme.
Verdurin," whom, she added, she had never seen "make so much" of anyone.
("You and she must have hooked atoms.") She would know that I had spoken
of her as was fitting, with affection, but that I had not that
incapacity for living without our seeing one another which I believed to
be at the root of the boredom that she had shewn at our last meetings. I
had told Mme. Swann that I should not be able to see Gilberte again. I
had said this as though I had finally decided not to see her any more.
And the letter which I was going to send Gilberte would be framed on
those lines. Only to myself, to fortify my courage, I proposed no more
than a supreme and concentrated effort, lasting a few days only. I said
to myself: "This is the last time that I shall refuse to meet her; I
shall accept the next invitation." To make our separation less difficult
to realise, I did not picture it to myself as final. But I knew very
well that it would be.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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