"There, Francoise," my aunt would say, "didn't I tell you that they must
have gone the Guermantes way? Good gracious! They must be hungry! And your
nice leg of mutton will be quite dried up now, after all the hours it's
been waiting. What a time to come in! Well, and so you went the Guermantes
way?"
"But, Leonie, I supposed you knew," Mamma would answer. "I thought that
Francoise had seen us go out by the little gate, through the
kitchen-garden."
For there were, in the environs of Combray, two 'ways' which we used to
take for our walks, and so diametrically opposed that we would actually
leave the house by a different door, according to the way we had chosen:
the way towards Meseglise-la-Vineuse, which we called also 'Swann's way,'
because, to get there, one had to pass along the boundary of M. Swann's
estate, and the 'Guermantes way.' Of Meseglise-la-Vineuse, to tell the
truth, I never knew anything more than the way there, and the strange
people who would come over on Sundays to take the air in Combray, people
whom, this time, neither my aunt nor any of us would 'know at all,' and
whom we would therefore assume to be 'people who must have come over from
Meseglise.
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