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Updated: June 18, 2025
She had recounted, she had acted the little scene with so much simplicity that Swann, as he gasped for breath, could vividly see it: Odette yawning, the "rock there,"... He could hear her answer alas, how lightheartedly "I've heard that tale before!" He felt that she would tell him nothing more that evening, that no further revelation was to be expected for the present.
It was probable that, had not this man accused Odette Rider of the murder, he would have left him to make his confession to Whiteside, and have gone alone in his hopeless search for the taxicab driven by Sam Stay. "To resume," continued Mr. Milburgh, "I took the revolver home. You will understand that I was in a condition of mind bordering upon a nervous breakdown.
I can tell you, I daren't take Loredan when I go to the Rue La Perouse; Odette doesn't like me to have Loredan, she thinks he doesn't suit me. What on earth is one to do? Women, you know, women. My dear fellow, she would be furious. Oh, lord, yes; I've only to take Remi there; I should never hear the last of it!"
In any event, that world of society which concealed such terrors for Odette inspired her, probably, with no very great longing to enter it, since it was too far removed from the world which she already knew for her to be able to form any clear conception of it.
He told himself that, in choosing the thought of Odette as the inspiration of his dreams of ideal happiness, he was not, as he had until then supposed, falling back, merely, upon an expedient of doubtful and certainly inadequate value, since she contained in herself what satisfied the utmost refinement of his taste in art.
To his dismay the girl shook her head. "I don't know that I am prepared to answer your questions," she said more calmly, "but there is no reason why you should not ask them." Here was an attitude wholly unexpected. And Odette Rider panic-stricken he could understand.
Now it had food in store, and Swann could begin to grow uneasy afresh every evening, over the visits that Odette had received about five o'clock, and could seek to discover where Forcheville had been at that hour.
And so to alter, to give a fresh moral aspect to that Odette, of whose unchanging mood he was afraid of growing weary, he wrote, suddenly, a letter full of hinted discoveries and feigned indignation, which he sent off so that it should reach her before dinner-time.
"Odette dear," he said gently, "is this yours?" She looked at it and nodded. "Why yes, where did you find it?" "Are you sure it is yours?" "I'm perfectly certain it's mine," she smiled. "It's an old slipper I used to wear. Why do you ask?" "Where did you see it last?" The girl closed her eyes and shivered. "In mother's room," she said. "Oh, mother, mother!"
Cottard bowed of being directly accessible to all. The other kind, the fashion of 'fashionable people, is, it must be admitted, accessible also; but there are inevitable delays. Odette would say of some one: "He never goes to any place that isn't really smart." And if Swann were to ask her what she meant by that, she would answer, with a touch of contempt, "Smart places!
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