I was transported in thought to the scenes of childhood: I dreamt I lay in the red-room at Gateshead; that the night was dark, and my mind impressed with strange fears. The light that long ago had struck me into syncope, recalled in this vision, seemed glidingly to mount the wall, and tremblingly to pause in the centre of the obscured ceiling.
Fui trasportata in sogno nella mia fanciullezza; mi pareva di trovarmi nella camera rossa di Gateshead; era notte scura e provavo mille paure.