She ignored it until it repeated itself. Or shall I ask Colonel Anson for a few hints?” “For Heaven’s sake no,” she declared. I fought ten lions at once. 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.
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