“I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. Kneebone! you would greatly oblige me by surrendering yourself. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. ” “Well?” “Sir John came to me—that you know—and you can guess what I told him. On the present occasion, he appeared to have bestowed more than ordinary attention on his toilette. 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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