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. “Julian, I don’t know how to put this. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with it. Why do you not go away?’ ‘Yes, do go away,’ begged Gerald.
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