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If some mortal, born too soon, / Were laid away in some great trance -- the ages / Coming and going all the while -- till dawned / His true time's advent; and could then record / The words they spoke who kept watch by his bed, / Then I might tell more of the breath so light / Upon my eyelids, and the fingers warm / Among my hair. Youth is confused; yet never / So dull was I but, when that spirit passed, / I turned to him, scarce consciously, as turns / A water-snake when fairies cross his sleep. / Browning: Paracelsus
This was the letter which Sir Hugo put into Deronda's hands: ,