box, scanned its address. They were all to tradesmen,
except the last, which was to Forcheville. He kept it in his hand. "If
I saw what was in this," he argued, "I should know what she calls him,
what she says to him, whether there really is anything between them.
Perhaps, if I don't look inside, I shall be lacking in delicacy towards
Odette, since in this way alone I can rid myself of a suspicion which
is, perhaps, a calumny on her, which must, in any case, cause her
suffering, and which can never possibly be set at rest, once the letter
is posted."

He left the post-office and went home, but he had kept the last letter
in his pocket. He lighted a candle, and held up close to its flame the
envelope which he had not dared to open. At first he could distinguish
nothing, but the envelope was thin, and by pressing it down on to the
stiff card which it enclosed he was able, through the transparent paper,
to read the concluding words. They were a coldly formal signature. If,
instead of its being himself who was looking at a letter addressed to
Forcheville, it had been Forcheville who had read a letter addressed
to Swann, he might have found words in it of another, a far more tender
kind! He took a firm hold of the card, which was sliding to and fro, the
envelope being too large for it and then, by moving it with his finger
and thumb, brought one line after another beneath the part of the
envelope where the paper was not doubled, through which alone it was
possible to read.

In spite of all these manoeuvres he could not make it out clearly. Not
that it mattered, for he had seen enough to assure himself that the
letter was about some trifling incident of no importance, and had
nothing at all to do with love; it was something to do with Odette's
uncle. Swann had read quite plainly at the beginning of the line "I
was right," but did not understand what Odette had been right in doing,
until suddenly a word which he had not been able, at first, to decipher,
came to light and made the whole sentence intelligible: "I was right to
open the door; it was my uncle." To open the door! Then Forcheville had
been there when Swann rang the bell, and she had sent him away; hence
the sound that Swann had heard.

After that he read the whole letter; at the end she apologised for
having treated Forcheville with so little ceremony, and reminded him
that he had left his cigarette-case at her house, precisely what she
had written to Swann after