. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. ” Lucy said softly. That's the way it goes. 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. Now how in the world was he to get rid of the husband? His luck was in. He had looked at it before without comprehension. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. And we men would work for them and serve them in loyal fealty.
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