They gathered and set off downhill, singing... Youth knows no meaning for caution... Neither the advice of the hotel keeper nor the counsel of those who were at the hotel could turn them from their resolve... The wailing of the wild winds and the snow falling thicker minute by minute served only to stir in them the urge to rush after adventure... They knew these mountains, their corners and their slopes; they had grown familiar with them from all the skiing they had done there, so there was no reason to be truly worried by this roaring storm, nor to fear that one of them might stray. All these bends and heights were clothed by the snows in a white mantle that seemed to hang loose about them, and these trees, the cedar trees, stretched out their branches to receive the snow's moisture settling upon them. All this over which their eyes roamed from behind their dark goggles they had scouted so many times that not even the pitch dark-ness of night could make them lose their way in it or miss the road back to the hotel — how then, when it was still midday and they were off on a short outing?

Among those most eager to plunge into the adventure and defy the storm was George — this young lad in whose soul seethed a love as rich and violent as the richness of his fresh youth and the violence of his blazing young manhood... He loved Salwa deeply, and on every occasion he wished to show her his abilities, his boldness, and his courage — above all when his rival Charles was present, Charles the rich young man with the "Cadillac" automobile and the grand buildings his father owned — above all when this rival of his was on hand... For George, who possessed no vast fortune like the one Charles possessed, had to make up for the wealth in which he was outdone with what nature had bestowed on him: blazing youth, overflowing health, and a manhood coming to its completion...

The most charming thing in these three, in the naïveté of youth advancing upon life with all the soul's richness of feeling and sincerity of heart — the most charming, endearing naïveté in them is that they believe in all seriousness that the feeling stirring in their little hearts is what will decide their destiny in life. George thinks Salwa is the companion he has decided to choose, and so he fears Charles's rivalry; and Charles thinks Salwa is the fiancée whom he will announce to his parents — after he finishes his stud-ies, in four or five years — that he has decided to ask for her hand, and so he keeps a wary eye on George...

And Salwa, this sweet, saucy girl, sees in her life a complicated tragedy, since she loves George but does not want to wound Charles's feelings. And so there appear at times upon these dear, young, fresh brows lines whose source is this confusion over the tangled affairs of the heart in the lives of their owners... How delightful are the illusions about life in these sweet little hearts, and the sincerity of their feeling...

The friends gathered, and George made sure to take Salwa's hand, so Charles leaped to the other side and took her other hand, and they all joined hands — Rushdi, Khalil, Laure, Yvonne, Charles, Salwa, and George — and off they went downhill, singing and rejoicing. Then they let go of one another's hands and began racing down the slope, showing their skill at rhythmic skiing, passing among the cedar trees and circling the hill overlooking the valley before shooting down into it.

But George was ahead of everyone in setting off toward the valley, and no sooner had Salwa turned her head his way, after she had finished tightening the strap around her ski, than she saw him disappear at the bottom of the valley; she set off after him in a spontaneous movement, and Charles followed her at once.

As for the storm, it was intensifying frightfully. A fog had engulfed the mountains, the valley, and the slopes, made worse by the snow-dust which the wild winds scattered in every direction, adding harm and hardship to the situation... So the friends decided to return to the hotel before matters grew more dangerous. And when they gathered, it turned out that Salwa, George, and Charles were not with them; so Rashid hastened to send shouts in the direction of the valley, calling to them — he had a powerful voice that managed to pierce the clamoring wail of the winds — and everyone listened, holding their breath, hoping to make out an answer to Rashid's calls. Then a smile spread over their faces as they heard George's whistle, and Laure said with a touch of mischief: George, Charles, and Salwa — never mind them, they will manage for themselves and catch up with us. Everyone laughed, reassured, and turned back...

As for Salwa, she had not fastened the strap well around her ski, and no sooner had she plunged toward the valley than the ski slipped from her foot; the force of momentum flung her up off the ground, she let out a terrified scream, and then crashed down