Page 180 - swanns-way

concealed from her by Françoise. She would detect the most
furtive movement of Françoise’s features, something con-
tradictory in what she was saying, some desire which she
appeared to be screening. And she would shew her that she
was unmasked, by, a single word, which made Françoise
turn pale, and which my aunt seemed to find a cruel satis-
faction in driving into her unhappy servant’s heart. And the
very next Sunday a disclosure by Eulalie—like one of those
discoveries which suddenly open up an unsuspected field
for exploration to some new science which has hitherto fol-
lowed only the beaten paths—proved to my aunt that her
own worst suspicions fell a long way short of the appalling
truth. ‘But Françoise ought to know that,’ said Eulalie, ‘now
that you have given her a carriage.’
‘Now that I have given her a carriage!’ gasped my aunt.
‘Oh, but I didn’t know; I only thought so; I saw her go
by yesterday in her open coach, as proud as Artaban, on
her way to Roussainville market. I supposed that it must be
Mme. Octave who had given it to her.’
So on by degrees, until Françoise and my aunt, the quar-
ry and the hunter, could never cease from trying to forestall
each other’s devices. My mother was afraid lest Françoise
should develop a genuine hatred of my aunt, who was doing
everything in her power to annoy her. However that might
be, Françoise had come, more and more, to pay an infinitely
scrupulous attention to my aunt’s least word and gesture.
When she had to ask her for anything she would hesitate,
first, for a long time, making up her mind how best to be-
gin. And when she had uttered her request, she would watch

180 Swann’s Way