It is a revelation.

Her hair smells of violets, but it is the delicate odour of hyacinth that came from her bare young arms when she clasped them round my neck; _et sa peau, on dirait du satin_.
Carlotta is in the wine, Carlotta with her sorcery and her laughter and her youth, and I drink Carlotta.
_"Quo me rapis Bacche pienum tui ?"_ To such a land of dreams, my one-eyed friend, as never before have I visited.

You yawn?
You are bored?
I shoot the dregs of my glass into his distended jaws.

He springs away spitting and coughing, and I lie back in my chair convulsed with inextinguishable laughter.
October 2d.
I have suffered all day from a racking headache, having awakened at six o'clock and crept shivering to bed.

I realise that Pommery and Greno are not demi-gods at all, but mere commercial purveyors of a form of alcohol, a quart of which it is injudicious to imbibe, with a one-eyed tom-cat as boon companion, at two o'clock in the morning: But I am unrepentant.