Norbu came every day, directly after evening
study, while the rest of the boys went tearing
down to the dining-hall. He stole past Father's
room and entered the chapel. And five minutes
later, Father Rebello could smell the joss-sticks.
Norbu seemed content, but Father knew that
this was not the end.
The rains had come and gone early that year.
Autumn twilight trailed over the land, pink and
dotted with stray white clouds. Father Rebello
loved the evenings—a time when he could take
his mind off the day-to-day problems of running
the school. He never missed his evening walk,
starting from the school on top of the hill, down
into the valley and up again to the little knoll
that overlooked a running stream. Here Father
would sit and watch the sun sink to rest among
the pines.
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