Page 377 - swanns-way

she would answer, with a touch of contempt, ‘Smart plac-
es! Why, good heavens, just fancy, at your age, having to be
told what the smart places are in Paris! What do you expect
me to say? Well, on Sunday mornings there’s the Avenue
de l’Impératrice, and round the lake at five o’clock, and on
Thursdays the Eden-Théâtre, and thé Hippodrome on Fri-
days; then there are the balls...’
‘What balls?’
‘Why, silly, the balls people give in Paris; the smart ones,
I mean. Wait now, Herbinger, you know who I mean, the
fellow who’s in one of the jobbers’ offices; yes, of course, you
must know him, he’s one of the best-known men in Par-
is, that great big fair-haired boy who wears such swagger
clothes; he always has a flower in his buttonhole and a light-
coloured overcoat with a fold down the back; he goes about
with that old image, takes her to all the first-nights. Very
well! He gave a ball the other night, and all the smart peo-
ple in Paris were there. I should have loved to go! but you
had to shew your invitation at the door, and I couldn’t get
one anywhere. After all, I’m just as glad, now, that I didn’t
go; I should have been killed in the crush, and seen noth-
ing. Still, just to be able to say one had been to Herbinger’s
ball. You know how vain I am! However, you may be quite
certain that half the people who tell you they were there are
telling stories.... But I am surprised that you weren’t there, a
regular ‘tip-topper’ like you.’
Swann made no attempt, however, to modify this con-
ception of fashion; feeling that his own came no nearer to
the truth, was just as fatuous, devoid of all importance, he

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