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Adolphus Swann, his partner, had just returned from lunch, and for about the fifth time that day was arranging his white hair and short, neatly pointed beard in a small looking-glass. Over the top of it he glanced at Hardy, who, leaning back in his chair, bit his pen and stared hard at a paper before him. "Is that the manifest of the North Star?" he inquired. "No," was the reply. Mr.
She was in ecstasies over some answer the tailor had made, saying to Mamma: "Sevigne would not have said it better!" and, by way of contrast, of a nephew of Mme. de Villeparisis whom she had met at the house: "My dear, he is so common!" Now, the effect of that remark about Swann had been, not to raise him in my great-aunt's estimation, but to lower Mme. de Villeparisis.
"I had hoped to have gone this afternoon," he said, with a glance at the clock; "but I'm afraid I can't get away. Have you got much to do, Hardy?" "No," said his partner, briskly. "I've finished." "Then perhaps you wouldn't mind doing my work for me, so that I can go?" said Mr. Swann, mildly. Hardy played with his pen.
On other days we would go along the boulevards, and I would post myself at the corner of the Rue Duphot; I had heard that Swann was often to be seen passing there, on his way to the dentist's; and my imagination so far differentiated Gilberte's father from the rest of humanity, his presence in the midst of a crowd of real people introduced among them so miraculous an element, that even before we reached the Madeleine I would be trembling with emotion at the thought that I was approaching a street from which that supernatural apparition might at any moment burst upon me unawares.
The electric tram slid in thunder down Trafalgar Road, and stopped for him with a jar, and he gingerly climbed into it, practising all precautions on behalf of his violoncello. The car slid away again towards Bursley, making blue sparks. Mrs Swann stared mechanically at the flickering gas in her lobby, and then closed her front door. He was gone! The boy was gone!
One day, when we were walking with Swann in one of the streets of Combray, M. Vinteuil, turning out of another street, found himself so suddenly face to face with us all that he had not time to escape; and Swann, with that almost arrogant charity of a man of the world who, amid the dissolution of all his own moral prejudices, finds in another's shame merely a reason for treating him with a friendly benevolence, the outward signs of which serve to enhance and gratify the self-esteem of the bestower because he feels that they are all the more precious to him upon whom they are bestowed, conversed at great length with M. Vinteuil, with whom for a long time he had been barely on speaking terms, and invited him, before leaving us, to send his daughter over, one day, to play at Tansonville.
"But you don't want me to meet you go with you, when I I can't feel as you do?" "Sure, I want you to, Rose. Nobody ever likes me right off. Maybe you will, after you know me. The job is yours. Don't make any date with me for that. I say here's your chance to have a ride, to win a friend. Take it or not. It's up to you. I won't say another word." Rose's hungry, lonely heart warmed toward Swann.
Sometimes she had declared so emphatically to Swann that it was impossible for him to see her on a particular evening, she seemed to be looking forward so keenly to some outing, that Swann attached a very real importance to the fact that M. de Charlus was free to accompany her.
There was a steady, even rush of wind. The car hummed and droned and sang. And mingled with the dry scent of dust was the sweet fragrance of new-mown hay. Far off a light twinkled or it might have been a star. Swann put his arm around Rose. She did not shrink she did not repulse him she did not move. Something strange happened in her mind or heart. It was that moment she fell.
The Dahlgren guns were served by a detachment of fifty-one men from the Richmond and seventeen from the Essex, under Lieutenant-Commander Edward Terry, with Ensign Robert P. Swann, Ensign E. M. Shepard, and Master's Mates William R. Cox and Edmund L. Bourne for chiefs of the gun divisions.
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