I almost didn’t get on the train. I could’ve turned back as Mr. Wilson advised. But I must go home and defend myself. If it were just Miss Smail’s letters, I could let it go, but the Mission Committee will interview Reverend Gillan, and he dissented when Reverend Thomson recommended my employment. He’s never done more than tolerate my presence, and since Reverend Hastie arrived, he’s found an ally against me. I must be there.
The train clacks down the track. My determination echoes the sound like a mantra in my head. I-must-be-there. I-must-be-there. I-must-be-there. My body sways from side to side. I suddenly remember how sick I get on trains. Everyone thinks they’re such a marvel, and they are. But I do get sick. And it takes a day and a half to get to Bombay.
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