At the same instant as M. de Charlus disappeared through the gate humming like a great bumble-bee, another, a real one this time, flew into the courtyard. For all I knew this might be the one so long awaited by the orchid, coming to bring it that rare pollen without which it must die a virgin. But I was distracted from following the gyrations of the insect, for, a few minutes later, engaging my attention afresh, Jupien (perhaps to pick up a parcel which he did not take away with him ultimately and which, in the emotion aroused in him by the appearance of M. de Charlus, he had forgotten, perhaps simply for a more natural reason) returned, followed by the Baron. The latter, deciding to precipitate mattes, asked the tailor for a light, but at once observed: "I ask you for a light, but I see I've left my cigars at home." "Come inside, you shall have everything you wish," said the tailor, on whose features disdain now gave place to joy.
Marcel Proust, Cities of the Plain, pp. 628-629
And speaking of nature as a metaphor, we have the appearance of a real bee, as compared to the metaphoric "great bumble-bee," M. de Charlus. Either way, the bee, both real and fake, is bringing something with it: :For all I knew this might be the one so long awaited by the orchid, coming to bring it that rare pollen without which it must die a virgin." Even the Baron is bringing life, emotional pollination, and Jupien welcomes him, telling him, "Come inside, you shall have everything you wish."
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