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. "Come along, my sly shaver. Be silent, I say, if you value his safety. . Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. ‘No! Let me alone!’ ‘It is not safe!’ ‘That is entirely my affair, and not your affair in the least,’ she told him haughtily. " "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. She ignored it until it repeated itself. One would think I had agreed to her going.
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