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Proust, Marcel, 1871-1922

"Swann's Way"


"You won't be ill this time, you'll find," he told her, seeking at the
same time to subdue her mind by the magnetism of his gaze. "And, if you
are ill, we will cure you."
"Will you, really?" Mme. Verdurin spoke as though, with so great a favour
in store for her, there was nothing for it but to capitulate. Perhaps,
too, by dint of saying that she was going to be ill, she had worked
herself into a state in which she forgot, occasionally, that it was all
only a 'little scene,' and regarded things, quite sincerely, from an
invalid's point of view. For it may often be remarked that invalids grow
weary of having the frequency of their attacks depend always on their own
prudence in avoiding them, and like to let themselves think that they are
free to do everything that they most enjoy doing, although they are always
ill after doing it, provided only that they place themselves in the hands
of a higher authority which, without putting them to the least
inconvenience, can and will, by uttering a word or by administering a
tabloid, set them once again upon their feet.
Odette had gone to sit on a tapestry-covered sofa near the piano, saying
to Mme.


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