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. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. He had no wish to drag the footman out of his way, once he had got his questions answered.
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