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cupation, M. Legrandin, had we insisted further, would in
the end have constructed a whole system of ethics, and a ce-
lestial geography of Lower Normandy, sooner than admit to
us that, within a mile of Balbec, his own sister was living in
her own house; sooner than find himself obliged to offer us
a letter of introduction, the prospect of which would never
have inspired him with such terror had he been absolute-
ly certain—as, from his knowledge of my grandmother’s
character, he really ought to have been certain—that in no
circumstances whatsoever would we have dreamed of mak-
ing use of it.
*****
We used always to return from our walks in good time
to pay aunt Léonie a visit before dinner. In the first weeks
of our Combray holidays, when the days ended early, we
would still be able to see, as we turned into the Rue du Saint-
Esprit, a reflection of the western sky from the windows of
the house and a band of purple at the foot of the Calvary,
which was mirrored further on in the pond; a fiery glow
which, accompanied often by a cold that burned and stung,
would associate itself in my mind with the glow of the fire
over which, at that very moment, was roasting the chick-
en that was to furnish me, in place of the poetic pleasure I
had found in my walk, with the sensual pleasures of good
feeding, warmth and rest. But in summer, when we came
back to the house, the sun would not have set; and while
we were upstairs paying our visit to aunt Léonie its rays,
sinking until they touched and lay along her window-sill,
would there be caught and held by the large inner curtains

204 Swann’s Way