"You----?"
"But you 're not coming--" Haidee broke off confusedly.
"No; but I am leaving France."
"Leaving France?" ejaculated Rupert.
"Yes, leaving France, and all cities, to go back to the life I lived as a child and which has been pulling and calling me ever since."
"What, that life in a waggon?" Haidee had heard of it so often it was strange she should become so excited about it now.
"Yes; a waggon that starts every late afternoon, and treks throughout the night; and brings you to a fresh place every morning." Her face suddenly lost the veil of shadows that had hung over it so long. Space, and joy and distance, and a fierce wistfulness came into her gaze. "One goes on and on to places one has never seen before, sometimes to places no one has ever seen before--that is best, that is wonderful----"
Strangely the veil that had passed from her face seemed to fall upon the faces of her listeners. Not one among them but looked curiously disturbed.
"I shall see the wildebeeste grazing on the horizon once more--and hear the guinea-fowl in the bush crying 'come back! come back!"
Westenra stared at her. Was this the woman who had run his nursing home!