“I blame myself for one thing only,” Mme. de Marsantes murmured in my ear, “and that was my telling him that he wasn’t nice to me. He, such an adorable, unique son, there’s no one else like him in the world, the only time I see him, to have told him he wasn’t nice to me, I would far rather he’d beaten me, because I am sure that whatever pleasure he may be having this evening, and he hasn’t many, will be spoiled for him by that unfair word. But, Sir, I mustn’t keep you, since you’re in a hurry.”

Anxiously, Mme. de Marsantes bade me goodbye. These sentiments bore upon Robert; she was sincere. But she ceased to be, to become a great lady once more.

“I have been so interested , so glad to have this little talk with you. Thank you! Thank you!”