Rémy and Laure shared the summit of Croisse-Baulet, and however modest it may have been, it made this moment unforgettable for them. Rémy knew the power of this communion too well to add the tiny gestures of love. He felt that his desire was reciprocated, that this emotion had the value of an embrace, and that Laure, no more than he, could ever forget it. Everything had to retain its grandeur, its grace. Small displays of affection, clumsy human caresses, in this setting of light, space, and wind, are derisory and even unbearable. They had to let their minds move freely. A look was enough to express their emotion, and Laure's spoke volumes. They removed the skins from their skis, adjusted the bindings for the descent, and shortened their poles. Then, without hurrying, their minds filled with a moment so saturated that it was pointless to prolong it. "From infinity, they launched themselves down the slope."