’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. \" She replied. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother.
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