She felt that it was wonderful to be in the world, wonderful that one was in the world. That she could raise her hand to brush her hair back, if she wanted; she felt that was wonderful. To stand in the house, facing the nocturnal lake, just as she had dreamed of it, it was wonderful. Was she dreaming it now? Or did she remember this night, was she remembering it, much later? What had been and what perhaps would never be, merged together and made this night. It was so simple, intelligible, and real. There was nothing to be sorry about, nothing to regret.
She stood and knew that she was remembering herself as nobody else would be able to remember her later. That's how it is, she thought with amazement, it really can be so.