A sudden uplift, a sense of exhilaration, of physical exaltation appeared abruptly to sweep Presley from his feet.

As from a point high above the world, he seemed to dominate a universe, a whole order of things.

He was dizzied, stunned, stupefied, his morbid supersensitive mind reeling, drunk with the intoxication of mere immensity.

Stupendous ideas for which there were no names drove headlong through his brain.

Terrible, formless shapes, vague figures, gigantic, monstrous, distorted, whirled at a gallop through his imagination.
He started homeward, still in his dream, descending from the hill, emerging from the canyon, and took the short cut straight across the Quien Sabe ranch, leaving Guadalajara far to his left.