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. This is also the ragged edge of the world, too. They are rather a long way off, but you could write to them. "I told you the prison wasn't built that could hold me," cried Jack. It was clear by the look on her face that she decided to leave the house immediately.
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