She had no idea what she should do. ‘Didn’t mean it, love. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued. From the white beach the palms ran in serried rows quarter of a mile inland, then began a jungle of bamboo, gum-tree, sandalwood, plantain, huge fern, and choking grasses. 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. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. ’ His colour deepened. He kissed her once inside the car. ‘But you know everything now,’ protested Hilary, keeping pace as Gerald took the stairs two at a time. He lowered himself onto her and entered her slowly, an inch at a time.
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