Hollo rumbled in his throat. That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. 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. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. She felt sickeningly empty. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted.
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