It seemed to emanate from the back of the house. 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. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women.
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