In pleasant weather, when the roads were good, cars like Swann's swerved off into the bypaths, into the edge of woods.

In bad weather they parked along the highway, darkened their lights and pulled their blinds.

For this, great factories turned out automobiles.

And there might have pealed out to a nation, and to God, the dolorous cry of a hundred thousand ruined girls! But who would hear?
And on the lips of girls of the present there was only the wild cry for excitement, for the nameless and unknown! There was a girl in Swann's car and Lane believed it was his sister.

Night after night he had watched.