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Updated: May 18, 2025
I laughed a little angrily "With whom could I possibly be in love, chère amie?! You would not suggest that Odette or Coralie or Alice could cause such an emotion!" "Oh! for them perhaps no they are for the senses of men they are the exotic flowers of this forcing time they have their uses although I myself abhor them as types but is there no one else?" "Solonge de Clerté?
But while, an hour after his awakening, he was giving instructions to the barber, so that his stiffly brushed hair should not become disarranged on the journey, he thought once again of his dream; he saw once again, as he had felt them close beside him, Odette's pallid complexion, her too thin cheeks, her drawn features, her tired eyes, all the things which in the course of those successive bursts of affection which had made of his enduring love for Odette a long oblivion of the first impression that he had formed of her he had ceased to observe after the first few days of their intimacy, days to which, doubtless, while he slept, his memory had returned to seek the exact sensation of those things.
Perhaps she did not realise, either, how sincere he still was, if not with her, at any rate with himself, on other occasions when, for the sake of their future relations, to shew Odette that he was capable of doing without her, that a rupture was still possible between them, he decided to wait some time before going to see her again.
An examination into these might lead to the discovery of the murderer, and at any rate would dispel the cloud of suspicion which still surrounded Odette Rider.
One day, he was trying without hurting Odette to discover from her whether she had ever had any dealings with procuresses.
Maurice was annoyed with himself; he could not yet see, and no wonder, for it was involved! but I am angry that the widow and the divorcée both have motors and I none! "Poor Odette she hates taxis! Why should she not have a motor? You are grinchant, mon cher! since she takes you out, too!"
She shook her head. "May I have that please?" She held out her hand and he hesitated. After all, he had no right or title to this curious purse. He compromised by putting it on the table and she did not attempt to take it. "Odette," he said gently and walked round to her, laying his hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you tell me?" "Tell you what?" she asked, without looking up.
But just as the conversation, the smiles, the kisses of Odette became as odious to him as he had once found them charming, if they were diverted to others than himself, so the Verdurins' drawing-room, which, not an hour before, had still seemed to him amusing, inspired with a genuine feeling for art and even with a sort of moral aristocracy, now that it was another than himself whom Odette was going to meet there, to love there without restraint, laid bare to him all its absurdities, its stupidity, its shame.
On his good days he was sometimes brought in to sit at certain councils at which there was a discussion about the diminution of taxes and relief of the people, and he showed symptoms, at intervals, of taking an interest in them. A fair young Burgundian, Odette de Champdivers, was the only one amongst his many favorites who was at all successful in soothing him during his violent fits.
One evening, when Swann had consented to dine with the Verdurins, and had mentioned during dinner that he had to attend, next day, the annual banquet of an old comrades' association, Odette had at once exclaimed across the table, in front of everyone, in front of Forcheville, who was now one of the 'faithful, in front of the painter, in front of Cottard: "Yes, I know, you have your banquet to-morrow; I sha'n't see you, then, till I get home; don't be too late."
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