If the meaning of the words escaped her, their gestures left little to be misunderstood.

A crowd of stragglers drew together near the four--laughed with them--took sides in the coarse-worded argument about Jaimihr's known ambition--and shamed her into pressing on homeward.
But she was forced to rest again, and then again.

Physical sickness prevented her from obeying instinct, reason, will, that all three urged her on.

No false pride now told her to dare the insolence of the guards; nothing appealed to her but the desire to hurry, hurry, hurry, and do whatever should appear to need doing when she reached the mission house.
She had no plan in her head.

She only knew that she had cursed a man, and that the curse was potent.