This potion she drank, and was healed of her wound and her weariness, and of all desires except a desire to sleep with her face among the daffodils.

She was the most beautifully alone person in the world that morning; nobody could have found her.

A thin string of very blue smoke went up from her faint fire and was tangled among the boughs of a flowering tree, but the coarse eye of a park-keeper could never have seen it.

She had escaped from the net of the cruel hours; for her the stained world was washed clean; for her all horror held its breath; for her there was absolute spring, and an innocent sun, and the shadows of daffodils upon closed eyes.....