All day long, during these walks, I had been able to muse upon the
pleasure that there would be in the friendship of the Duchesse de
Guermantes, in fishing for trout, in drifting by myself in a boat on the
Vivonne; and, greedy for happiness, I asked nothing more from life, in
such moments, than that it should consist always of a series of joyous
afternoons. But when, on our way home, I had caught sight of a farm, on
the left of the road, at some distance from two other farms which were
themselves close together, and from which, to return to Combray, we need
only turn down an avenue of oaks, bordered on one side by a series of
orchard-closes, each one planted at regular intervals with apple-trees
which cast upon the ground, when they were lighted by the setting sun, the
Japanese stencil of their shadows; then, sharply, my heart would begin to
beat, I would know that in half an hour we should be at home, and that
there, as was the rule on days when we had taken the 'Guermantes way' and
dinner was, in consequence, served later than usual, I should be sent to
bed as soon as I had swallowed my soup, so that my mother, kept at table,
just as though there had been company to dinner, would not come upstairs
to say good night to me in bed.
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