There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. She veiled her emotion by taking off his overcoat. Once in, the constable's manner appeared totally changed. She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said.
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