I had then experienced an optical illusion.

I forced myself to speak--to smile--to put back the novel sensations that were overwhelming me.
"I think," I said, and I heard myself speak as though I were somebody else at a great distance off--"I think, Signor Cellini, your Eastern wine has been too potent for me.

My head is quite heavy, and I feel dazed." "It is mere fatigue and the heat of the day," he replied quietly.

"I am sure you are not too DAZED, as you call it, to see your favourite picture, are you ?" I trembled.

Was not that picture veiled?
I looked--there was no curtain at all, and the faces of the two Angels shone out of the canvas with intense brilliancy! Strange to say, I felt no surprise at this circumstance, which, had it occurred a moment previously, would have unquestionably astonished and perhaps alarmed me.