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" "Mother be——!" returned Jack. " "Well, think no more about it," returned Thames. 123 It didn’t take long. The windows of these rooms were obscured with draperies, their floors a carpet patchwork; the china ornaments on their mantels were of a class apart. ’ Hilary’s gaze was raking the room. Wood the carpenter. 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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