She was very lonely and totally inexperienced.

As Agatha Slade had gradually fallen into intimacy of speech, so did she.

She longed so desperately for companionship that the very intensity of her feelings impelled her to greater openness than she had at first intended.
"I suppose men don't know," she said to herself sullenly, in thinking of Osborn, who spent his days out of doors.

"At any rate, they don't care." Emily cared greatly, and was so full of interest and sympathy that there was something like physical relief in talking to her.
"You two have become great pals," Alec said, on an afternoon when he stood at a window watching Lady Walderhurst's carriage drive away.

"You spend hours together talking.