” Annabel laughed derisively and took up her book. I wonder——” He turned slowly round. Leonardo had not taught her to do so. He became angry. I don’t know anyone. 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.
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