As it was now, suffering--sullen, silent, self-contained suffering--had marred its beauty.

Attention and even curiosity it might still rouse.

Admiration or interest it could excite no longer.
The small, thin, black figure stood immovably inside the door.

The dull, worn, white face looked silently at the three persons in the room.
The three persons in the room, on their side, stood for a moment without moving, and looked silently at the stranger on the threshold.

There was something either in the woman herself, or in the sudden and stealthy manner of her appearance in the room, which froze, as if with the touch of an invisible cold hand, the sympathies of all three.