But vitality was exceeding strong in her.

It passed, that weakness of realization, and she awakened to the consciousness of love.
But in the beginning it was not consciousness of the man.

It was new, sensorial life, elemental, primitive, a liberation of a million inherited instincts, quivering and physical, over which Ellen had no more control than she had over the glory of the sun.

If she thought at all it was of her need to be hidden, like an animal, low down near the earth, covered by green thicket, lost in the wildness of nature.

She went to nature, unconsciously seeking a mother.