crowded inn-terraces. The opening of this volume follows a twenty-year-old traveler ascending to the Col du Lautaret, where a tempest drives tourists into an overfull hospice and he becomes fascinated by a graceful young woman. Discovering their rooms connect, he watches, then makes contact: flowers offered, murmured talk, and a confession that she is married, lonely, and awaiting her husband. A teasing dawn exchange through the door leads to an afternoon walk; he follows her into the high meadows, they gather edelweiss, he “reads” her palm, and innocent intimacies (like drinking from his cupped hands) coexist with restrained longing. As evening falls, she avoids a rendezvous; later, trusting his promise to be “wise,” she admits him to her room. He misreads the situation, makes a sudden advance, she resists, and he withdraws in shame. The section ends with his anguished self-reproach and recognition of her candor and purity, set against the vast, luminous mountain solitude. (This is an automatically generated summary.)