I had never before fallen so easily and pleasantly into conversation with anyone; it was as though we had for many years enjoyed an unexacting friendship. For though I was fully aware that she was a stranger to me, there seemed to be between us no barriers of the mind; and this, despite the fact that I was suddenly in a place that I did not know, without even the vaguest memory to tell me how I had come there. I remember marvelling at the beauty of the scene, and wondering if its mild and charming aspect had cast a spell upon me. For we were quite at ease. We stood on a broad stone terrace, balustraded and open to the sky, stretching back to the gardens and pavilions of a palace. Beneath our feet, below steep, flower-covered slopes and rolling fields, the whole world seemed to lie within the possibilities of vision; and now the plains, now the far-distant mountains, now the dark stretches of the forest revealed themselves beneath a tender floating haze that was as fresh as morning, yet as restful and contented as the twilight.

She stood looking down over the fields, leaning a little forward, one finely-shaped hand resting lightly on the balustrade. Her graciousness was elusive, yet not remote, her friendliness apparent without effort. Perfectly attuned to her surroundings, assured and happy and free from arrogance, she gave me sympathy and welcome without questioning, and I accepted it. Still unaware of what had happened to me, I stood on a garden terrace high above the world and talked of the places and the people that I loved with one who loved them too.