She was truthful, honest and, for the rest, just a woman.
And Leonora had a vague sort of idea that, to a man, all women
are the same after three weeks of close intercourse. She thought
that the kindness should no longer appeal, the soft and mournful
voice no longer thrill, the tall darkness no longer give a man the
illusion that he was going into the depths of an unexplored wood.
She could not understand how Edward could go on and on
maundering over Mrs Basil. She could not see why he should
continue to write her long letters after their separation. After that,
indeed, she had a very bad time.
She had at that period what I will call the "monstrous" theory of
Edward. She was always imagining him ogling at every woman
that he came across. She did not, that year, go into "retreat" at
Simla because she was afraid that he would corrupt her maid in
her absence. She imagined him carrying on intrigues with native
women or Eurasians. At dances she was in a fever of
watchfulness.
She persuaded herself that this was because she had a dread of
scandals. Edward might get himself mixed up with a marriageable
daughter of some man who would make a row or some husband
who would matter.
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