As he introduces her physical appearance to the reader, John employs tactile imagery to describe Leonora’s air of stony chill and his apparent lack of sexual attraction towards her:
But I am sure I never had the beginnings of a trace of what is called the sex instinct towards her. And I suppose—no I am certain that she never had it towards me. As far as I am concerned I think it was those white shoulders that did it. I seemed to feel when I looked at them that, if ever I should press my lips upon them that they would be slightly cold—not icily, not without a touch of human heat, but, as they say of baths, with the chill off. I seemed to feel chilled at the end of my lips when I looked at her […]
The tactile imagery used here to describe Leonora's chilly “white shoulders” conveys an impression of bloodless stiffness. This sensory language immediately gives the reader a sense of Leonora being more like a marble statue than a warm human being. The narrator imagines that if he were to press his lips against her skin, it would feel "slightly cold." Because she’s a living, breathing woman, she can’t be entirely devoid of warmth. However, when John imagines being close to her, his sense is that she’d lack the heat one might expect from intimate contact. The description of feeling "chilled at the end of my lips" when he looks at her reinforces this sense of distance and lack of attraction. However, it's hard to overlook the fact that he's thinking about "press[ing] his lips" to her shoulders, suggesting that he's probably not as sexually uninterested in her as he claims.
In this early passage, the narrator utilizes both visual imagery and allusion to describe his discomfort at seeing Leonora in her more formal evening attire:
I never thought that Leonora looked her best in evening dress. She seemed to get it too clearly cut, there was no ruffling. She always affected black and her shoulders were too classical. She seemed to stand out of her corsage as a white marble bust might out of a black Wedgwood vase. I don’t know.
The visual imagery Ford uses here contrasts the starkness of black dress and white skin, painting a bold picture for the reader of a dramatic outfit. The description of Leonora’s attire as "too clearly cut, there was no ruffling" and her preference for “affected black” draws a parallel between her straightforward and morally upright nature and the choice of her evening dress. Even at this early point in the novel, Leonora makes John uncomfortable because there is “no ruffling” to her: she is, he thinks, as she seems to be.
The imagery of her shoulders being "too classical" for this kind of outfit likens her to a marble sculpture. It suggests both her beauty and a certain coldness or rigidity. Instead of her clothes being flattering, she “stands out” in them "as a white marble bust might out of a black Wedgwood vase." Marble busts, or small statues of people's heads and shoulders, are not conventionally displayed in vases: busts would typically be displayed as freestanding objects, and vases would contain plants or flowers will be displayed empty. This incongruity also points to Leonora's social rigidity and the sense of stiffness she gives off. She's so ill-suited to this kind of dress that she looks to John like one hard, beautiful object oddly and unnecessarily contained within another.
The allusion to a "black Wedgwood vase" adds to this. Wedgwood vases are a sort of very valuable English pottery from the 18th century. They are known for their pale neoclassical designs, are somewhat rare and delicate, and in the early 20th century were considered very old-fashioned, all qualities that align with Leonora's character traits. The comparison to a Wedgwood vase suggests Leonora's value and refinement. However, it also points to the related ideas of her hard brittleness and the quintessentially English nature of her character. Like an antique vase, she appears strong but is actually vulnerable to cracking or breaking. Finally, like a prized antique object, she also gives off an air of untouchability.
In this passage, Ford uses visual imagery to amplify the drama of Florence catching Edward and Nancy together in a moonlit park. Describing her horror as she spies on them, the narrator tells the reader:
Anyhow, there you have the picture, the immensely tall trees, elms most of them, towering and feathering away up into the black mistiness that trees seem to gather about them at night; the silhouettes of those two upon the seat; the beams of light coming from the Casino, the woman all in black peeping with fear behind the tree-trunk.
The visual imagery Ford employs here immediately sets a somber and almost otherworldly tone. The use of "feathering" to describe the trees suggests a softness and intimacy to the darkness that envelops the couple and their hidden watcher. This image of Edward and Nancy feels as if it is colored by Florence’s horrified gaze; even the darkness is touching the couple softly.
The contrast between the "beams of light coming from the Casino" and the "black mistiness" of the park provides a dramatic juxtaposition of visibility and obscurity for the reader. The interplay of light and shadow amplifies the emotional tension of the moment. It also literally echoes Florence’s “black and white” switch between suspicion and horror, as the idea she most dreaded comes to life before her eyes.
At the beginning of Book 3, the narrator uses visual imagery and a simile to describe a pivotal moment that may have led to Florence's suicide. John describes her catching Edward and Nancy behaving amorously in a park at night:
It was a very black night and the girl was dressed in cream-coloured muslin, that must have glimmered under the tall trees of the dark park like a phosphorescent fish in a cupboard. You couldn’t have had a better beacon.
The visual imagery Ford employs here plays on the contrast of sharply defined black and white elements, including Nancy’s “cream-colored” dress “glimmering” in the darkness of the park. The simile amplifies this contrast, comparing Nancy to "a phosphorescent fish in a cupboard." Here, the narrator portrays the girl as literally glowing, being “luminous” in the dark setting. The simile also implies that Nancy doesn’t belong in the scene, just as a glowing fish would be out of place in a cupboard. Nancy isn’t actually giving off light, but Florence is so shocked to see her with Edward that she becomes visually unmissable. The simile might also suggest that Nancy—like a phosphorescent creature—is unable to hide from Florence. Now that she has seen the evidence of Edward’s infidelity for herself, Florence cannot pretend to have missed Nancy’s presence.
Furthermore, the phrase "You couldn’t have had a better beacon" underlines how unavoidable seeing the truth here is for Florence. Just as a beacon is designed to attract attention, Nancy's appearance in the park makes it impossible for the affair to remain concealed.
When they’re constantly in close proximity toward the end of the novel, Leonora’s hatred of Nancy becomes almost impossible to conceal. The narrator employs tactile imagery and metaphor to depict Leonora's desire for revenge against Nancy for her adultery with Edward.
Yes, Leonora wished to bring her riding-whip down on Nancy’s young face. She imagined the pleasure she would feel when the lash fell across those queer features; the pleasure she would feel at drawing the handle at the same moment toward her, so as to cut deep into the flesh and to leave a lasting wheal. Well, she left a lasting wheal, and her words cut deeply into the girl’s mind […]
The tactile imagery Ford uses is vivid and intense, focusing on the imagined sensation of inflicting pain. The description of Leonora wishing to "bring her riding-whip down on Nancy’s young face" and the graphic detail of the lash cutting into flesh create a powerful sensation of physical violence for the reader. This imagery does more than convey Leonora's intense anger and her desire for retribution. It also echoes the emotional "blows" that Leonora has endured due to Edward's behavior. She’s having to restrain herself from physically reproducing them on Nancy.
The metaphor in this passage comes into play with the phrase "she left a lasting wheal, and her words cut deeply into the girl’s mind." A "wheal" is a raised mark on skin, usually left because a blow has been struck. Although Leonora does not actually physically whip Nancy, the metaphor suggests that her words inflict a similar kind of “injury.” The "lasting wheal" is a metaphor for the enduring emotional and psychological impact of Leonora's words, which “cut deeply” into Nancy. This metaphor extends the tactile imagery of physical pain to the psychological realm. Leonora is nursing psychological “wounds” of her own and wants Nancy to suffer as she has herself.