As if an indisputable need constrained them to fly from some unknown danger, they walked along the shores of the four little lakes, stopping to admire the waters. They proceeded to where the tail of the Cambrena glacier descends and winds, and they bent over the spring that gushes from it to bathe their hands, which were on fire; they went further, beyond the yoke and the Bernina Pass, following the carts and carriages which were in motion; they went by a long hill, whence they saw a flock of sheep, with their shepherd and guardian dog, proceeding with slow steps, occasionally halting, and then resuming their way; throughout the summer they had been in the Engadine, and now, driven away by the cold, were descending towards Italy, towards Poschiavo. They went forward themselves on the road to Italy, and saw the little village of La Rosa gleaming white below. They went everywhere, tiring their bodies and their souls.
As the day declined they returned to the door of the Hospice, but neither climbed the stairs again. They remained at the threshold, exchanging some glances full of a silent and immense sadness, but not a word opened their lips to say how immense was their grief. The carriage was ready, and the horses were tinkling their bells; the waiter came down, carrying rugs and cloaks and flowers. Lucio and Lilian jumped into the carriage to return to St. Moritz Dorf. Again they looked at the grey Hospice, which became gloomier in the declining day, in that obscure corner of the earth, amidst its four mysterious lakes, and an immense sadness bade farewell to that tarrying-place of an hour of love. Then they left in silence. Gloomy and stern, with hat almost lowered over his eyes, Lucio first became calm by degrees, while pale and sad, beneath her white veil, Lilian, too, grew calmer. Gradually a gentleness, ever softer and more persuasive, poured itself like balsam over their grief and regret. They drew near to each other, affectionately and simply; a tenderness united their hands and kept them joined, a tenderness flowed from their few words, in their voices, in their names pronounced now and then. A tenderness seized, kept, and dominated them on their return journey, amid the ever-increasing gloom of the twilight, and when they reached their goal, both were exalted by tenderness. But Lucio Sabini was also exalted by renunciation.