It was there that Diana reawakened, after the trance of a deadly draught, to the glory of the earth and her share in it.

She wakened like the Princess of the Kiss; happily not to kisses; to no sign, touch or call that she could trace backward.

The change befell her without a warning.

After writing deliberately to her friend Emma, she laid down her pen and thought of nothing; and into this dreamfulness a wine passed, filling her veins, suffusing her mind, quickening her soul: and coming whence?
out of air, out of the yonder of air.

She could have imagined a seraphic presence in the room, that bade her arise and live; take the cup of the wells of youth arrested at her lips by her marriage; quit her wintry bondage for warmth, light, space, the quick of simple being.