You have been burning paper, I see. Sheppard. Still, there certainly was something in the idea of a treaty. 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. Later that night, after she had cleaned herself and changed her clothes, he returned.
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