She had known that Remenham House would be deserted, for Martha—released, as she had carefully explained to her charge, by her vows to God from servitude and obedience to Nicholas Charvill, a mere mortal—had begun a correspondence with a friend of her youth, Mrs Joan Ibstock, née Pottiswick. “I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, “because we want you to do us a favour. 265 The madness crept around her like smoke under a door.
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