Hester’s intense awareness of the public’s attention was finally relieved by the shocking sight of a figure at the far edge of the crowd. An Indian in his native dress was standing there. Indians were not such uncommon visitors in the English settlements that Hester Prynne would have noticed one at such a time, much less been captivated by his presence. But next to the Indian, seeming like his friend, stood a white man, dressed in a strange mixture of English and Indian garments. (costume)
He was a short man with a face that was wrinkled but not that old. His features indicated great intelligence, as though he had so cultivated his mind that it began to shape his body. It was clear to Hester Prynne that one of the man’s shoulders rose higher than the other, though the man had tried to conceal the fact with a seemingly careless arrangement of his strange clothing. Upon first seeing that thin face and slightly deformed figure, Hester pressed her infant to her breast so hard that the poor child cried out. But Hester did not seem to hear it. (hear it)
When the stranger first arrived in the marketplace—long before Hester Prynne saw him—he had fixed his eyes on her. His initial glance was careless, like that of a man accustomed to his own thoughts, who only values the outside world for its relation to his own mind. But soon his gaze became sharp and penetrating. Horror slithered over his features like a fast-moving snake, pausing only for a moment to show its many coils. His face darkened with a powerful emotion which, nonetheless, he instantly controlled with his will. Except for that single moment of emotion, his expression seemed perfectly calm. After a little while, his convulsion became almost imperceptible, until it entirely faded into the depths of his being. When he found the eyes of Hester Prynne fixed on his, and saw that she seemed to recognize him, he slowly