Page 392 - swanns-way

‘Who is that gentleman?’ Forcheville asked Mme. Verdu-
rin. ‘He seems to speak with great authority.’
‘What! Do you mean to say you don’t know the famous
Brichot? Why, he’s celebrated all over Europe.’
‘Oh, that’s Bréchot, is it?’ exclaimed Forcheville, who had
not quite caught the name. ‘You must tell me all about him”;
he went on, fastening a pair of goggle eyes on the celebrity.
‘It’s always interesting to meet well-known people at dinner.
But, I say, you ask us to very select parties here. No dull eve-
nings in this house, I’m sure.’
‘Well, you know what it is really,’ said Mme. Verdurin
modestly. ‘They feel safe here. They can talk about whatever
they like, and the conversation goes off like fireworks. Now
Brichot, this evening, is nothing. I’ve seen him, don’t you
know, when he’s been with me, simply dazzling; you’d want
to go on your knees to him. Well, with anyone else he’s not
the same man, he’s not in the least witty, you have to drag
the words out of him, he’s even boring.’
‘That’s strange,’ remarked Forcheville with fitting aston-
ishment.
A sort of wit like Brichot’s would have been regarded as
out-and-out stupidity by the people among whom Swann
had spent his early life, for all that it is quite compatible
with real intelligence. And the intelligence of the Professor’s
vigorous and well-nourished brain might easily have been
envied by many of the people in society who seemed witty
enough to Swann. But these last had so thoroughly incul-
cated into him their likes and dislikes, at least in everything
that pertained to their ordinary social existence, including

392 Swann’s Way