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The Frozen Deep by Wilkie Collins
page 83 of 130 (63%)

"Shall I stop there?" she asks.

There is no answer. Has Clara wandered away out of hearing of the
music that she loves--the music that harmonizes so subtly with
the tender beauty of the night? Mrs. Crayford rises and advances
to the window.

No! there is the white figure standing alone on the slope of the
lawn--the head turned away from the house; the face looking out
over the calm sea, whose gently rippling waters end in the dim
line on the horizon which is the line of the Hampshire coast.

Mrs. Crayford advances as far as the path before the window, and
calls to her.

"Clara!"

Again there is no answer. The white figure still stands immovably
in its place.

With signs of distress in her face, but with no appearance of
alarm, Mrs. Crayford returns to the room. Her own sad experience
tells her what has happened. She summons the servants and directs
them to wait in the drawing-room until she calls to them. This
done, she returns to the garden, and approaches the mysterious
figure on the lawn.

Dead to the outer world, as if she lay already in her
grave--insensible to touch, insensible to sound, motionless as
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