Her eyes were fine, but so
large that they seemed to be bending beneath their own weight, strained
the rest of her face and always made her appear unwell or in an ill
humour. Some time after this introduction at the theatre she had written
to ask Swann whether she might see his collections, which would interest
her so much, she, "an ignorant woman with a taste for beautiful things,"
saying that she would know him better when once she had seen him in his
'home,' where she imagined him to be "so comfortable with his tea and his
books"; although she had not concealed her surprise at his being in that
part of the town, which must be so depressing, and was "not nearly smart
enough for such a very smart man." And when he allowed her to come she had
said to him as she left how sorry she was to have stayed so short a time
in a house into which she was so glad to have found her way at last,
speaking of him as though he had meant something more to her than the rest
of the people she knew, and appearing to unite their two selves with a
kind of romantic bond which had made him smile. But at the time of life,
tinged already with disenchantment, which Swann was approaching, when a
man can content himself with being in love for the pleasure of loving
without expecting too much in return, this linking of hearts, if it is no
longer, as in early youth, the goal towards which love, of necessity,
tends, still is bound to love by so strong an association of ideas that it
may well become the cause of love if it presents itself first.
Pages:
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378