I read this book probably about nine years ago. It was alright. The story was interesting at times, involving a false sexual assault accusation by a British woman accusing a native Indian Muslim in the 1920's or thereabouts. Racial tensions abound.
The writing was decent. I don't remember much else but know that it is not a book that I readily recommended to anyone at any point in my life. And also that I have been hesitant to read other E.M. Forster books based on my reading of this one. So maybe I didn't much care for this book all that much after all.
Some lines from the book:
"Life never gives us what we want at the moment that we consider appropriate."
"God would give me more when he saw I gave."
"[N]o atmosphere of sin surrounded him."
"[T]he hands of the clock move forward, not back."
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