He crosses the hall and goes into a dining room, where the furniture is covered in dust sheets. He looks round him in wonder at the muffled apartment.

Céleste reappears.

CÉLESTE   They are waiting, monsieur.

MASSIS   What does Monsieur Proust do? Does he just write?

CÉLESTE   He’s a gentleman.

MASSIS   What’s the matter with him? Is he ill?

CÉLESTE   I have told you. He’s a gentleman. He’s delicate.

MASSIS   It’s quite a place.

CÉLESTE   We seldom use it. This carpet was given to Monsieur Proust’s father by the Shah of Persia.
Céleste goes.

INT. PROUST’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.

POULET   What is this on the wall?

PROUST   Cork. Otherwise the noise … the street, the children … one could not work.
He shrugs.

POULET   It’s perfect for music. We’ve never sounded so well.
Massis returns.

PROUST   Ah! Our lost viola.
The music begins again, cut off sharply as Céleste closes the bedroom door and leaves.

INT. PROUST’S APARTMENT. KITCHEN. NIGHT.

Odilon sits by the open window and lights a cigarette.

Céleste is washing up. She disapproves.

INT. PROUST’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.

The musicians are playing.

Proust sits up.

PROUST   Stop, stop, that section. Play that again.
Proust listens as the Quartet play the last music of the César Franck Quartet in D. He tries to sing the tune.
Proust’s face.
The Quartet ends.
Ruyssen begins to pack up immediately, but is stopped by a warning look from Poulet.
Monsieur Massis. Would you be good enough to hand me the box on the bureau? That one, yes.
Proust stands up.
He gives eight thousand francs to Poulet.

POULET   But monsieur. This is too much.
Ruyssen gives him a wild eye, indicating that nothing is too much for being woken up in the middle of the night.

PROUST   No. I have put you to some inconvenience. I am indebted to you and I hope I’ll be permitted to call on your services again. Goodnight, gentlemen. Your cabs await you downstairs.

INT. PROUST’S APARTMENT. HALL. NIGHT.

Céleste closes the door after the departing musicians and goes back into the bedroom.

INT. PROUST’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.

The door to the dressing-room corridor is open.

Céleste sets the room to rights.

PROUST   (out of vision) What a nice bunch, did you not think?
Proust enters in his dressing gown.

CÉLESTE   Monsieur.

PROUST   And so talented. Did you notice the one with a limp?
He’s a soldier on sick leave.

CÉLESTE   I’ll bring your night tray, monsieur.
He sits on the edge of the bed, which she has turned back.
He takes a notebook from the table.
Céleste returns with the night tray.
Proust, working, and without looking at her.

PROUST   You can go to bed now, Céleste.

INT. PROUST’S APARTMENT. KITCHEN/KITCHEN CORRIDOR/ CÉLESTE’S BEDROOM. NIGHT.