William Wilkie Collins

“ Clara refused it. She took Crayford's arm, and clung to him.
"I'm frightened, dreadfully frightened!" she said to him, faintly. "You keep with me—a woman is no protection; I want to be with you." She looked round again at the boat-house doorway. "Oh!" she whispered, "I'm cold all over—I'm frozen with fear of this place. Come into the yard! Come into the yard!"
"Leave her to me," said Crayford to his wife. "I will call you, if she doesn't get better in the open air."
He took her out at once, and closed the yard door behind them.
"Mr. Steventon, do you understand this?" asked Mrs. Crayford. ”

“ The strongest man among them set the example; he volunteered to stay by Frank, and to bring him on in the track of the exploring party."
There Steventon stopped, conscious, on his side, that he had said too much. Would she ask him who this volunteer was? No. She went straight on to the most embarrassing question that she had put yet—referring to the volunteer, as if Steventon had already mentioned his name.
"What made Richard Wardour so ready to risk his life for Frank's sake?" she said to Crayford. "Did he do it out of friendship for Frank? Surely you can tell me that? ”

“ I can't pass the door. Somewhere else! somewhere else!"
Mrs. Crayford looked round her, and noticed a second door at the inner end of the boat-house. She spoke to her husband.
"See where that door leads to, William."
Crayford opened the door. It led into a desolate enclosure—half garden, half yard. Some nets stretched on poles were hanging up to dry. No other objects were visible—not a living creature appeared in the place. "It doesn't look very inviting, my dear," said Mrs. Crayford. "I am at your service, however. What do you say?"
She offered her arm to Clara as she spoke. ”