It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone. 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. And now for the fawney— the ring I mean. ” She pulled her dress back over her breasts, glad for the elastic that she had sewn in. Wood trembled.
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