That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. The Mother Abbess, while thankful, could not be brought to consent to allow the girl out of her charge alone with unknown servants, and Martha was delegated to accompany her erstwhile nurseling to the homeland she had thought never to see again. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. Clement's church. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year. And then if some day Capes wanted her—saw fit to alter his views upon friendship. "Strange!" he continued, as if talking to himself.
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