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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. Spurling, as if struck by a sudden idea. “I think she would,” she decided. And her mother, looking unusually alert and hectic, wore cream and brown also, made up in a more complicated manner. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss. ’ ‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’ ‘Hardly. No good at all. She fell into another depression, refusing to touch Sebastian or call him husband when he demanded it.
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