The Golden Notebook. Doris Lessing

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      ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I see what you’re getting at. Well he’s not like that at all.’

      ‘Like what, I didn’t say anything?’

      ‘No, but you imply it all the time. He’s ex-Indian army. But he isn’t like the caricatures. He got unfit for the army and was in the administration for a time. And he’s not like that either.’

      ‘So what is he like?’

      She laughed. The sound held affection which was spontaneous and genuine, and a bitterness which she did not know was there. ‘He bought an old house when he left India. It’s in Cornwall. It’s small and isolated. It’s very pretty. Old—you know. He’s an isolated man, he always has been. He reads a lot. He knows a lot about philosophy and religion—Buddha, for instance.’