Explore "The Frozen Deep" by Wilkie Collins on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was not easy to find Mrs. Crayford in the crowd. Searching here, and searching there, Frank became conscious of a stranger, who appeared to be looking for somebody, on his side. He was a dark, heavy-browed, strongly-built man, dressed in a shabby old naval officer's uniform. His manner -- strikingly resolute and self-contained -- was unmistakably the manner of a gentleman. He wound his way slowly through the crowd; stopping to look at every lady whom he passed, and then looking away again with a frown. Little by little he approached the conservatory -- entered it, after a moment's reflection -- detected the glimmer of a white dress in the distance, through the shrubs and flowers -- advanced to get a nearer view of the lady -- and burst into Clara's presence with a cry of delight.
She sprang to her feet. She stood before him speechless, motionless, struck to stone. All her life was in her eyes -- the eyes which told her she was looking at Richard Wardour.