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Charlie had paid but little attention to this eulogy, the charms which it extolled in his betrothed having completely escaped his notice. But he said, in reply to M. Nor did he use the expression as Jupien would have done, but with that simplicity which in certain relations postulates that a suppression of the difference in age has tacitly preceded affection. In others, a sincere affection. Thus, about this time M. All the Princes to whom the Almanach de Gotha accords a few lines passed in procession for days on end through his mind.

And then, all of a sudden, an address written on the back of the letter enlightened him: the writer was the page at a gambling club to which M. This page had not felt that he was being discourteous in writing in this tone to M. But he thought that it would not be civil not to address in the second person singular a gentleman who had many times kissed one, and thereby — he imagined in his simplicity — bestowed his affection.

He even brought M. And yet, heaven knows that M. For the latter, his monocle in his eye, kept gazing in all directions at every passing youth. What was worse, emancipating himself when he was with M. He gave feminine endings to all the masculine words and, being intensely stupid, imagined this pleasantry to be extremely witty, and was continually in fits of laughter. As at the same time he attached enormous importance to his position in the diplomatic service, these deplorable outbursts of merriment in the street were perpetually interrupted by the shock caused him by the simultaneous appearance of somebody in society, or, worse still, of a civil servant.

Oh, that messenger from the Galeries Lafayette, what a dream! At length, to bring this infuriating walk to an end, he decided to produce the letter and give it to the Ambassador to read, but warned him to be discreet, for he liked to pretend that Charlie was jealous, in order to be able to make people think that he was enamoured. On the one hand and this is the less important aspect of the matter , it may be felt that the aristocracy is, in these pages, disproportionately accused of degeneracy in comparison with the other classes of society.

Were this true, it would be in no way surprising.

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It would be a more serious objection, were there any foundation for it, to say that all this is alien to us, and that we ought to extract truth from the poetry that is close at hand. Art extracted from the most familiar reality does indeed exist and its domain is perhaps the largest of any. But it is no less true that a strong interest, not to say beauty, may be found in actions inspired by a cast of mind so remote from anything that we feel, from anything that we believe, that we cannot ever succeed in understanding them, that they are displayed before our eyes like a spectacle without rhyme or reason.

In short, like everyone of his kind, while genuinely fond of Morel and of the girl who was all but engaged to him, an ardent advocate of their marriage, he thoroughly enjoyed his power to create at his pleasure more or less inoffensive little scenes, aloof from and above which he himself remained as Olympian as his brother. Rien ne lui plaisait mieux. Morel had told M. Nothing pleased him better.

This way of speaking, the charming manners that went with it, the patronage of M. And yet this might perhaps have been improbable of anyone else, but not of Albertine, a fatherless and motherless orphan, leading so uncontrolled a life that at first I had taken her, at Balbec, for the mistress of a bicyclist, a girl whose next of kin was Mme.


Bontemps who in the old days, at Mme. The day may come when dressmakers — nor should I find it at all shocking — will move in society. Naturally these were not Guermantes, nor even people who knew the Guermantes, but rich and smart women of the middle-class, broad-minded enough to feel that it is no disgrace to invite a dressmaker to your house and at the same time servile enough to derive some satisfaction from patronising a girl whom His Highness the Baron de Charlus was in the habit — without any suggestion, of course, of impropriety — of visiting daily.

Car M. Nothing could have pleased the Baron more than the idea of this marriage, for he felt that in this way Morel would not be taken from him. For M. Notwithstanding this, the Baron refrained from making any insinuation, and for two reasons. Then I shall by my own doing be converting a harmless and easily controlled flirtation into a serious passion, which is a difficult thing to manage. Charlie prenait ces expressions de M. Anyhow, the girl herself was charming, and M. Parmi les raisons qui rendaient M. Among the reasons which made M.

Perhaps even this domination would be stronger now than it had ever been. For whereas Morel by himself, naked so to speak, often resisted the Baron whom he felt certain of reconquering, once he was married, the thought of his home, his house, his future would alarm him more quickly, he would offer to M.

All this, and even, failing anything else, on evenings when he was bored, the prospect of stirring up trouble between husband and wife the Baron had never objected to battle-pictures was pleasing to him. Less pleasing, however, than the thought of the state of dependence upon himself in which the young people would live. For the possession of what we love is an even greater joy than love itself. Very often those people who conceal this possession from the world do so only from the fear that the beloved object may be taken from them.

And their happiness is diminished by this prudent reticence.


Le violon suffirait avec les appointements de M. Nissim Bernard — 5.

Enfin, je me chargeai de demander pour Morel 1. En disant cela, ses yeux flambaient. Il ne se contenta pas, du reste, de dire que Bloch et M.

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Enfin, M. Il est vrai que M. What was more, Morel had quite possibly forgotten it himself. As he became better acquainted with the girl, she had appealed to him, he began to like her. He knew himself so little that he doubtless imagined that he was in love with her, perhaps indeed that he would be in love with her always. To be sure his initial desire, his criminal intention remained, but glossed over by so many layers of sentiment that there is nothing to shew that the violinist would not have been sincere in saying that this vicious desire was not the true motive of his action. There was, moreover, a brief period during which, without his actually admitting it to himself, this marriage appeared to him to be necessary.

Morel was suffering at the time from violent cramp in the hand, and found himself obliged to contemplate the possibility of his having to give up the violin. However, they passed into the background, their place being taken by pure love, now that his cramp had ceased.

His violin would suffice, together with his allowance from M. Marriage was the urgent thing, because of his love, and in the interest of his freedom.

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He made a formal offer of marriage to Jupien, who consulted his niece. This was wholly unnecessary. In Morel, almost everything that was agreeable or advantageous to him awakened moral emotions and words to correspond, sometimes even melting him to tears. Only there was another side to this virtuous enthusiasm for a person who afforded him pleasure and the solemn engagement that he made with her. As soon as the person ceased to afford him pleasure, or indeed if, for example, the obligation to fulfil the promise that he had made caused him displeasure, she at once became the object of an antipathy which he justified in his own eyes and which, after some neurasthenic disturbance, enabled him to prove to himself, as soon as the balance of his nervous system was restored, that he was, even looking at the matter from a purely virtuous point of view, released from any obligation.

Thus, towards the end of his stay at Balbec, he had managed somehow to lose all his money and, not daring to mention the matter to M.

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Bloch had not hesitated to lend him — or rather to secure a loan for him, from M. Nissim Bernard, of five thousand francs. From that moment Morel had worshipped Bloch. He asked himself with tears in his eyes how he could shew his indebtedness to a person who had saved his life. Finally, I undertook to ask on his behalf for a thousand francs monthly from M. The mere sight of Bloch was enough to fill his mind with dark thoughts, and Bloch himself having forgotten the exact amount that he had lent Morel, and having asked him for 3, francs instead of 4, which would have left the violinist francs to the good, the latter took the line that, in view of so preposterous a fraud, not only would he not pay another centime but his creditor might think himself very fortunate if Morel did not bring an action against him for slander.

As he said this his eyes blazed. He did not content himself with asserting that Bloch and M. Nissim Bernard had no cause for complaint against him, but was soon saying that they might consider themselves lucky that he made no complaint against them. Finally, M. Nissim Bernard having apparently stated that Thibaut played as well as Morel, the last-named decided that he ought to take the matter into court, such a remark being calculated to damage him in his profession, then, as there was no longer any justice in France, especially against the Jews anti-semitism being in Morel the natural effect of a loan of 5, francs from an Israelite , took to never going out without a loaded revolver.

It is true that M. This idea was, in itself, quite insufficient to detach Morel from the girl; but, lurking in his mind, it was ready when the time came to combine with other analogous ideas, capable, once the compound was formed, of becoming a powerful disruptive agent. It was not very often, however, that I was fated to meet M. I shall set apart from the other days on which I lingered at Mme. On this particular afternoon, Mme.

Albertine vous ouvrira. Albertine will let you in. Enfin elle put me faire entrer, mais les fleurs de seringa la mirent en fuite. At length she was able to let me in, but the scent of the syringas put her to flight. I took them to the kitchen, with the result that my mistress, leaving her letter unfinished why, I did not understand , had time to go to my room, from which she called to me, and to lay herself down on my bed.