Page 88 - swanns-way

the incomprehensible problem all her inductive talent and
her leisure hours.
‘That will be Mme. Sazerat’s dog,’ Françoise would sug-
gest, without any real conviction, but in the hope of peace,
and so that my aunt should not ‘split her head.’
‘As if I didn’t know Mme. Sazerat’s dog!’—for my aunt’s
critical mind would not so easily admit any fresh fact.
‘Ah, but that will be the new dog M. Galopin has brought
her from Lisieux.’
‘Oh, if that’s what it is!’
‘It seems, it’s a most engaging animal,’ Françoise would
go on, having got the story from Théodore, ‘as clever as a
Christian, always in a good temper, always friendly, always
everything that’s nice. It’s not often you see an animal so
well-behaved at that age. Mme. Octave, it’s high time I left
you; I can’t afford to stay here amusing myself; look, it’s
nearly ten o’clock and my fire not lighted yet, and I’ve still
to dress the asparagus.’
‘What, Françoise, more asparagus! It’s a regular disease
of asparagus you have got this year: you will make our Pa-
risians sick of it.’
‘No, no, Madame Octave, they like it well enough. They’ll
be coming back from church soon as hungry as hunters, and
they won’t eat it out of the back of their spoons, you’ll see.’
‘Church! why, they must be there now; you’d better not
lose any time. Go and look after your luncheon.’
While my aunt gossiped on in this way with Françoise I
would have accompanied my parents to mass. How I loved
it: how clearly I can see it still, our church at Combray! The

88 Swann’s Way