CHAPTER XXVII
Psyche was alive again, soaring through the air, and felt so light and ethereal; pearl-whiter she was than ever, and naked.
And on her tender shoulders she felt two new wings fluttering . . . .!
She hovered away over her own dead body into a drifting cloud, a fragrant mist, which farther on she lost sight of; and light, white, and ethereal, she looked with wonder at her trampled corpse and laughed. . . .
Strange, clear, and childlike sounded her laugh in the cloud and vapoury fragrance. . . .
“Psyche!”
She heard her name, but so dazzled and astonished was she, that she did not see. Then the wind blew about her; the cloud moved, the fragrance ascended like incense, and she saw many like herself, restored to life, hovering
