Or else, if she had not had time to write, when he arrived
at the Verdurins' she would come running up to him with an "I've something
to say to you!" and he would gaze curiously at the revelation in her face
and speech of what she had hitherto kept concealed from him of her heart.
Even as he drew near to the Verdurins' door, and caught sight of the great
lamp-lit spaces of the drawing-room windows, whose shutters were never
closed, he would begin to melt at the thought of the charming creature
whom he would see, as he entered the room, basking in that golden light.
Here and there the figures of the guests stood out, sharp and black,
between lamp and window, shutting off the light, like those little
pictures which one sees sometimes pasted here and there upon a glass
screen, whose other panes are mere transparencies. He would try to make
out Odette. And then, when he was once inside, without thinking, his eyes
sparkled suddenly with such radiant happiness that M. Verdurin said to the
painter: "H'm. Seems to be getting warm." Indeed, her presence gave the
house what none other of the houses that he visited seemed to possess: a
sort of tactual sense, a nervous system which ramified into each of its
rooms and sent a constant stimulus to his heart.
Pages:
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437