She took the tray with both hands, gulped, and gave way to tears. 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. "Now, lead me to a hotel where I can get breakfast. There’d only be endless rows if I was at home.
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