Tiny, frequent drops tickle her palm.

The darkness grows less impenetrable as her eyes become accustomed to it.

She distinguishes, down below, Santa Maria della Febbre, grey, against a black background.

The mass of heavy mist grows lighter, and the arms of the oak towering on the right show black against it.

The tiny, frequent drops continue to tickle her outstretched hand, which she finally withdraws.