She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. But what he could do or might do she could not imagine. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. Neither of them believed me. By degrees, his fears vanished, and hearing nothing, he grew calmer. You couldn’t help it. Certainly not a gentlewoman. Wood carved the ducks; Mr. This, then, was the woman from whom Hoddy would not have accepted a cup of water.
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