Her face scarcely reflected his enthusiasm. ’ ‘Of what use to be ladylike when I cannot be a lady?’ ‘None of that. 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. She didn’t choose her man.
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