Page 359 - swanns-way

that truth upon which he had supported, nay founded, albeit
unconsciously, his vision of bliss. So will a traveller, who has
come down, on a day of glorious weather, to the Mediter-
ranean shore, and is doubtful whether they still exist, those
lands which he has left, let his eyes be dazzled, rather than
cast a backward glance, by the radiance streaming towards
him from the luminous and unfading azure at his feet.
He climbed after her into the carriage which she had
kept waiting, and ordered his own to follow.
She had in her hand a bunch of cattleyas, and Swann
could see, beneath the film of lace that covered her head,
more of the same flowers fastened to a swansdown plume.
She was wearing, under her cloak, a flowing gown of black
velvet, caught up on one side so as to reveal a large triangu-
lar patch of her white silk skirt, with an ‘insertion,’ also of
white silk, in the cleft of her low-necked bodice, in which
were fastened a few more cattleyas. She had scarcely recov-
ered from the shock which the sight of Swann had given her,
when some obstacle made the horse start to one side. They
were thrown forward from their seats; she uttered a cry, and
fell back quivering and breathless.
‘It’s all right,’ he assured her, ‘don’t be frightened.’ And
he slipped his arm round her shoulder, supporting her body
against his own; then went on: ‘Whatever you do, don’t ut-
ter a word; just make a sign, yes or no, or you’ll be out of
breath again. You won’t mind if I put the flowers straight on
your bodice; the jolt has loosened them. I’m afraid of their
dropping out; I’m just going to fasten them a little more se-
curely.’

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