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of life which Swann had felt) which explained everything by reference to these special causes and in which, as always happens when a man stoops to the level of his own vice, he was not only unworthy of himself but exceptionally satisfied with himself. Thus it was that this dignified and noble man put on the most imbecile smile to complete the following little speech: “As there are strong presumptions of the same kind as for Ferdinand of Coburg in the case of the Emperor William, this may well be the reason why Tsar Ferdinand has joined the side of the ‘Empires of Prey.’ After all, it is very understandable, one is indulgent to a sister, one refuses her nothing. To my mind that would be a very pretty explanation of Bulgaria’s alliance with Germany.” And at this stupid explanation M. de Charlus pealed with laughter as though he really found it most ingenious—an explanation which, even had it been based upon true facts, was in the same puerile category as the observations which M. de Charlus made about the war when he judged it from the point of view of a feudal lord or a Knight of St John of Jerusalem. He ended with a more sensible remark: “What is astonishing,” he said, “is that this public which judges the men and events of the war solely from the newspapers, is persuaded that it forms its own opinions.”

In this M. de Charlus was right. I have been told that it was fascinating to see the moments of silence and hesitation, so exactly like those that are necessary not merely to the pronouncement but to the formation of a personal opinion, which Mme de Forcheville used to have before declaring, as though it were a heartfelt sentiment: “No, I do not think they will take Warsaw;” “I have the impression that it cannot last another winter;” “the worst thing that could happen is a patched-up peace;” “what alarms me, if you want to know, is the Chamber;” “yes, I believe all the same that we shall succeed in breaking through.” And to make these statements Odette assumed a simpering air which became even more exaggerated when she said: “I don’t say the German armies do not fight well, but they lack what is called pluck.” In pronouncing the word “pluck” (and it was the same when she merely said “fighting spirit”) she executed with her hand the sculptural gesture, and with her eyes the wink, of an art student employing a technical term of the studios. Her language now, however, even more than in the past bore witness to her admiration for the English, whom she was no longer obliged to call, as formerly, merely “our neighbours across the Channel,” or at most “our friends the English”: they were “our loyal allies.” Needless to say she never failed, relevant or not, to quote the expression fair play (and to point out that in the eyes of the English the Germans were unfair players) and also: “the important thing is to win the war, as our brave allies say.” She even had an unfortunate habit of associating the name of her son-in-law with the subject of English soldiers and of referring to the pleasure which he derived from living cheek by jowl with Australians and Scotsmen, New Zealanders and Canadians. “My son-in-law Saint-Loup has learned the slang of all the brave tommies, he can make himself understood by the ones from the most distant dominions—and I don’t mean just the general in command of the base, he fraternises with the humblest private.”

May this parenthesis on Mme de Forcheville serve as my excuse, while I am strolling along the boulevards side by side with M. de Charlus, for embarking upon another, of greater length but useful as an illustration of this era, on the relations of Mme Verdurin with Brichot. The truth is that if, as we have seen, poor Brichot was judged without indulgence by M. de Charlus (because the latter was both extremely intelligent and more or less unconsciously pro-German), he was treated still worse by the Verdurins. They no doubt were chauvinistic, and this ought to have made them appreciate Brichot’s articles, which were in any case quite as good as many pieces of writing which delighted Mme Verdurin.