When the last amen had been sung, Monk watched the people file out, hoping someone would touch his memory, or better still, actually speak to him.
He was about to give up even that when he saw a young woman in black, slender and of medium height, dark hair drawn softly back from a face almost luminous, dark eyes and fragile skin, mouth too generous and too big for it. It was not a weak face, and yet it was one that could have moved easily to laughter, or tragedy. There was a grace in the way she walked that compelled him to watch her.
As she drew level she became aware of him and turned. Her eyes widened and she hesitated. She drew in her breath as if to speak.
He waited, hope surging up inside him, and a ridiculous excitement, as if some exquisite realization were about to come.
Then the moment vanished; she seemed to regain mastery of herself, her chin lifted a little, and she picked up her skirt unnecessarily and continued on her way.
He went after her, but she was lost in a group of people, two of whom, also dressed in black, were obviously accompanying her. One was a tall, fair man in his mid-thirties with smooth hair and a long-nosed, serious face; the other was a woman of unusual uprightness of carriage and features of remarkable character. The three of them walked towards the street and waiting vehicles and none of them turned their heads again.
Monk rode home in a rage of confusion, fear, and wild, disturbing hope.
-- Chapter 3, Pages 68-69
Long for a quote, I know, but much too excellent to pass up! I'm enjoying this book more than I'd expected to (and I am expecting a lot). I love her deep understanding of human nature, and how her descriptions of facial features and expressions, and even clothes, help to connect the reader to the characters.
Happy reading! :)