The story is taken up again three years later. Clara did not die. She writes now from Montpellier in France. She observes in this new letter that even the profoundest grief gradually fades. A person may not be reasoned out of despair, but over time, it wears away. She thinks it possible, however, that her release came in part from the fact that her house burned down, forcing her out of her retreat from reality. It also helped her to write the story down.

One night shortly after she finished writing her story, Clara went to bed and experienced tumultuous and violent lucid dreams featuring whirlpools, pointed rocks, a dark abyss, and finally the volcanic eruption of Mount Etna. She woke to find her room on fire. Someone picked her up and carried her to the window and down a ladder to her uncle’s arms. The shock of the episode finally roused her from her depression, and for the first time, she considered the possibility that her life might not be completely unbearable. She finally went with her uncle to Europe and allowed new experiences and new sights to rouse her imagination and curiosity.

With her psychological recovery, she began to feel again her old attachment to Henry.