Before the Monroes I was placed with a single woman, Leslie Cavendish. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. She had come across the wicked South Seas which were still infested with cannibals; she had seen drunkenness and called men beachcombers; who was this moment as innocent as a babe, and in the next uttered some bitter wisdom it had taken a thousand years of philosophy to evolve. Part 9 The realization that she was in love flooded Ann Veronica’s mind, and altered the quality of all its topics.
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