The air came with balmy freshness to my anxious, feverish brow.

I scooped up the cold water in the hollow of my hand and bathed my face.

I shook my hair over my shoulders, and dashed the water over every disordered tress.

I began to breathe more freely.

The burning weight, the oppression, the suffocation were passing away, but a dreary sense of misery, of coming desolation remained.