And they left the joyous message: that this sport, since pace could so easily be controlled, might be tested at once, alone, without instruction, this very afternoon. A subtle change came over the landscape, making it less and more; retiring a little as who should say: then I am to be henceforth a background, already a mere accessory, it yet challenged her vow, an intimidating witness. Along the empty stretch towards the valley the blazing sun blotted out the distance so that it was pleasant to turn the next corner and be going again towards the expanse that ended at the white high-hung collar. The fresh stretch of gently sloping road was longer than the one above it and walking freely here she found that her gait had changed, that she was planking along in a lounging stride which brought ease to her bandaged legs and made more manageable her inflexible feet. With a little practice, walking could be a joy. Walking in this scene, through this air, was an occupation in itself. And she was being assailed by the pangs of a piercing hunger. Obtrusive; insistent as the hunger of childhood. It would take a little longer to go back. It would be wise to turn now. At the corner ending this stretch. Suddenly it seemed immensely important to discover what there was round the corner. From the angle of the turning she could see the little bridge far away to the right, in profile, with pines stretching along the bank of what it spanned, that showed a little further on as a thin straight line steeply descending to join the serpentine that cut the white floor of the valley. Away to the right of the bridge straggling leafless trees stood in a curve. Behind them something moved; coming and going across the gaps between their trunks. Skaters. Then for the girl and boy that reckless rush was just a transit; a means of getting to the rink, as one might take a bus to a tennis-court. A voice greeted her from behind, surprising in its level familiarity until the finished phrase revealed the American, to whom, turning to find him standing before her, his toboggan drawn to heel by its rope, she gave the smile, not for him, the lover’s smile reviewing, as they passed her in inverse rotation while she made the long unwelcome journey into his world of an American in Europe, her morning’s gatherings.