understand only too well that she was
now inflamed with the passion of a Grand Inquisitor who cannot succeed
in stamping out a heresy; and so, in the hope of bringing Swann round
to a retractation (for the courage of one's opinions is always a form of
calculating cowardice in the eyes of the 'other side'), he broke in:

"Tell us frankly, now, what you think of them yourself. We shan't repeat
it to them, you may be sure."

To which Swann answered: "Why, I'm not in the least afraid of the
Duchess (if it is of the La Tremoilles that you're speaking). I can
assure you that everyone likes going to see her. I don't go so far as
to say that she's at all 'deep'--" he pronounced the word as if it meant
something ridiculous, for his speech kept the traces of certain mental
habits which the recent change in his life, a rejuvenation illustrated
by his passion for music, had inclined him temporarily to discard,
so that at times he would actually state his views with considerable
warmth--"but I am quite sincere when I say that she is intelligent,
while her husband is positively a bookworm. They are charming people."

His explanation was terribly effective; Mme. Verdurin now realised that
this one state of unbelief would prevent her 'little nucleus' from ever
attaining to complete unanimity, and was unable to restrain herself, in
her fury at the obstinacy of this wretch who could not see what anguish
his words were causing her, but cried aloud, from the depths of her
tortured heart, "You may think so if you wish, but at least you need not
say so to us."

"It all depends upon what you call intelligence." Forcheville felt that
it was his turn to be brilliant. "Come now, Swann, tell us what you mean
by intelligence."

"There," cried Odette, "that's one of the big things I beg him to tell
me about, and he never will."

"Oh, but..." protested Swann.

"Oh, but nonsense!" said Odette.

"A water-butt?" asked the Doctor.

"To you," pursued Forcheville, "does intelligence mean what they call
clever talk; you know, the sort of people who worm their way into
society?"

"Finish your sweet, so that they can take your plate away!" said Mme.
Verdurin sourly to Saniette, who was lost in thought and had stopped
eating. And then, perhaps a little ashamed of her rudeness, "It doesn't
matter; take your time about it; there's no hurry; I only reminded you
because of the others, you know; it keeps the servants back."

"There is," began Brichot