She could not hide her face. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he mused. 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. Ramage, regarding it and putting a well-booted foot up on the bottom rail. And for many years, that was the way it was.
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