In Search of Lost Time, Volume IV_ Sodom and Gomorrah - Marcel Proust [216]
“You’ll see,” Mme Verdurin continued, “when one has society people together with people of real intelligence, people of our set, that’s where one has to see them—the wittiest society man in the kingdom of the blind is only one-eyed here. Besides, he paralyses the others, who don’t feel at home any longer. So much so that I’m inclined to wonder whether, instead of attempting mixtures that spoil everything, I shan’t start special evenings confined to the bores so as to have the full benefit of my little nucleus. However: you’re coming again with your cousin. That’s settled. Good. At any rate you’ll get something to eat here, the pair of you. Féterne is starvation corner. Oh, by the way, if you like rats, go there at once, you’ll get as many as you want. And they’ll keep you there as long as you’re prepared to stay. Why, you’ll die of hunger. When I go there, I shall dine before I start. To make it a bit gayer, you must come here first. We shall have a good high tea, and supper when we get back. Do you like apple-tarts? Yes, very well then, our chef makes the best in the world. You see I was quite right when I said you were made to live here. So come and stay. There’s far more room here than you’d think. I don’t mention it, so as not to let myself in for bores. You might bring your cousin to stay. She would get a change of air from Balbec. With the air here, I maintain that I can cure incurables. My word, I’ve cured some, and not only this time. For I’ve stayed near here before—a place I discovered and got for a mere song, and which had a lot more character than their Raspelière. I can show it to you if we go for a drive together. But I admit that even here the air is really invigorating. Still, I don’t want to say too much about it, or the whole of Paris would begin to take a fancy to my little corner. That’s always been my luck. Anyhow, give your cousin my message. We’ll put you in two nice rooms looking over the valley. You ought to see it in the morning, with the sun shining through the mist! By the way, who is this Robert de Saint-Loup you were speaking of?” she said anxiously, for she had heard that I was to pay him a visit at Doncières, and was afraid that he might make me defect. “Why not bring him here instead, if he’s not a bore. I’ve heard of him from Morel; I fancy he’s one of his greatest friends,” she added, lying in her teeth, for Saint-Loup and Morel were not even aware of one another’s existence. But having heard that Saint-Loup knew M. de Charlus, she supposed that it was through the violinist, and wished to appear in the know. “He’s not taking up medicine, by any chance, or literature? You know, if you want any help about examinations, Cottard can do anything, and I make what use of him I please. As for the Academy later on—for I suppose he’s not old enough yet—I have several votes in my pocket. Your friend would find himself on friendly soil here, and it might amuse him perhaps to see over the