Today I went back with the imagination to Luxembourg Gardens. And although I have been very careful not to get into trouble, again an incident has confirmed my suspicions. There is no longer any doubt: Madame and Monsieur Verdurin still resent me because of the misunderstanding with the shotgun. Before the incident everything was going well. I have even met Madame de Villeparisis who has complained that I didn’t show myself at her salon lately. I have informed her of my convalescent state and of the fact that I can’t get out of home currently except with my imagination, as at that precise moment. And then she has made me promise that, even with my imagination, I would not stop going to her Thursday soirees. Then I’ve felt compelled to warn her of the possibility that I would make a scene due to the interferences my imagination was suffering at the hands of the Verdurins. She was outraged about it and, in exchange for my promise to come to her salon weekly, she promised to intervene in the matter. Meditating on how she could intervene, I came to the Fountain of the Observatory. That’s where the elephant was. Although it was the same docile old elephant to which the children were raised for a modest fee, there were no children this time. Instead of them, there were the Verdurins! They must be waiting for me because, as soon as they saw me, they set the elephant on me. This once I did not have time to stop and reflect. If I had done it, I would have opened my eyes and would have been back in the safety of home. But driven by the pure instinct of survival, I ran like crazy. In short, I could not prevent the elephant from grabbing me with its trunk, and, since it must be thirsty, making a borehole to find water in the subsoil by hitting the ground with my head.