She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. 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 never knew what became of her farmer after that.
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