I might have told you the truth. Her mind wandered back to that fateful day. You’re a far cry from your usual gloomy self these days. 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. " "Don't touch it, Winny!" screamed Mrs.
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