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besides, I’m afraid we’re rather too near the stage,’ the Doc-
tor, who had come into the box with a smile which waited
before settling upon or vanishing from his face until some
one in authority should enlighten him as to the merits of
the spectacle, replied: ‘To be sure, we are far too near the
stage, and one is getting sick of Sarah Bernhardt. But you
expressed a wish that I should come. For me, your wish is a
command. I am only too glad to be able to do you this little
service. What would one not do to please you, you are so
good.’ And he went on, ‘Sarah Bernhardt; that’s what they
call the Voice of God, ain’t it? You see, often, too, that she
‘sets the boards on fire.’ That’s an odd expression, ain’t it?’ in
the hope of an enlightening commentary, which, however,
was not forthcoming.
‘D’you know,’ Mme. Verdurin had said to her husband,
‘I believe we are going the wrong way to work when we de-
preciate anything we offer the Doctor. He is a scientist who
lives quite apart from our everyday existence; he knows
nothing himself of what things are worth, and he accepts
everything that we say as gospel.’
‘I never dared to mention it,’ M. Verdurin had answered,
‘but I’ve noticed the same thing myself.’ And on the follow-
ing New Year’s Day, instead of sending Dr. Cottard a ruby
that cost three thousand francs, and pretending that it was a
mere trifle, M. Verdurin bought an artificial stone for three
hundred, and let it be understood that it was something al-
most impossible to match.
When Mme. Verdurin had announced that they were
to see M. Swann that evening; ‘Swann!’ the Doctor had ex-

310 Swann’s Way