M. Verdurin and myself. That is a house in which you might play. And then I may tell you that if I take you⁠—because the artists all know me, you understand, they have always been most obliging to me, and regard me almost as one of themselves, as their Mistress⁠—that is a very different matter. But whatever you do, you must never go near Mme. de Duras! Don’t go and make a stupid blunder like that! I know several artists who have come here and told me all about her. They know they can trust me,” she said, in the sweet and simple tone which she knew how to adopt in an instant, imparting an appropriate air of modesty to her features, an appropriate charm to her eyes, “they come here, just like that, to tell me all their little troubles; the ones who are said to be most silent, go on chatting to me sometimes for hours on end and I can’t tell you how interesting they are. Poor Chabrier used always to say: ‘There’s nobody like Mme. Verdurin for getting them to talk.’ Very well, don’t you know, all of them, without one exception, I have seen them in tears because they had gone to play for