midnight
`` Mamma , '' said Odalite , `` I seem to have been in a trance , or a dream , ever since you gave me that composing draught ! What was it -- opium , hasheesh , amyle -- what ? And , mother , how much was real and how much was dream that I have passed through ? It seems like the phantasmagoria of a midnight orgie -- through which only one thing seems to stand out clearly -- that I have had ` some outlet through thunder and lightning ' into freedom ! Mother , is it true ? Am I free ? '' `` Yes , dearest dear , you are free ! ''