Page 317 - swanns-way
P. 317

beginning to be clouded over by a cataract, and quickly, as
         though she had only just time to avoid some indecent sight
         or to parry a mortal blow, burying her face in her hands,
         which completely engulfed it, and prevented her from see-
         ing anything at all, she would appear to be struggling to
         suppress, to eradicate a laugh which, were she to give way
         to  it,  must  inevitably  leave  her  inanimate.  So,  stupefied
         with the gaiety of the ‘faithful,’ drunken with comradeship,
         scandal and asseveration, Mme. Verdurin, perched on her
         high seat like a cage-bird whose biscuit has been steeped in
         mulled wine, would sit aloft and sob with fellow-feeling.
            Meanwhile  M.  Verdurin,  after  first  asking  Swann’s
         permission to light his pipe (“No ceremony here, you under-
         stand; we’re all pals!’), went and begged the young musician
         to sit down at the piano.
            ‘Leave him alone; don’t bother him; he hasn’t come here
         to be tormented,’ cried Mme. Verdurin. ‘I won’t have him
         tormented.’
            ‘But  why  on  earth  should  it  bother  him?’  rejoined  M.
         Verdurin. ‘I’m sure M. Swann has never heard the sonata in
         F sharp which we discovered; he is going to play us the pi-
         anoforte arrangement.’
            ‘No, no, no, not my sonata!’ she screamed, ‘I don’t want
         to be made to cry until I get a cold in the head, and neu-
         ralgia all down my face, like last time; thanks very much,
         I don’t intend to repeat that performance; you are all very
         kind and considerate; it is easy to see that none of you will
         have to stay in bed, for a week.’
            This little scene, which was re-enacted as often as the

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