The first time Irene encounters Clare in Passing, Larsen uses auditory imagery and a simile comparing Clare's laugh to a a delicate bell. Through this, the author demonstrates the intense, immediate charms Clare possesses:
The woman laughed, a lovely laugh, a small sequence of notes that was like a trill and also like the ringing of a delicate bell fashioned of a precious metal, a tinkling [...]
The auditory imagery brings Clare’s laughter to life for the reader, allowing them to almost hear the sound themselves. Describing it as "a small sequence of notes" and "a tinkling" makes them sense its musical quality. The sound is rare and recognizable enough that Irene knows her immediately, feeling the “tinkling” before she even sees Clare’s face. This sensory detail immerses the reader in Irene's experience, making the scene feel as immediate and real.
The similes comparing Clare's laugh to "a trill" and "the ringing of a delicate bell fashioned of a precious metal" point to the idea that Clare is a precious and unique person. By likening the laugh to something crafted from valuable metal, Larsen suggests that even Clare’s laugh has tangible, monetary value. The comparison also gives her laugh an almost inhuman aspect, as if she were something quite different than the people around her. As with many other literary devices in this novel, this metaphor is also full of parallels and dualities. Clare’s laugh differentiates her from everyone around her, setting her apart. It even sounds like two different things at once, as it is itself somehow “like a trill and also like the ringing of a delicate bell” at the same time.
In this passage, Nella Larsen uses visual imagery to intensify a moment of foreshadowing for Irene. Near the end of Passing, Irene gazes out at the snowy street while worrying about Clare.
After a breakfast, which had been eaten almost in silence and which she was relieved to have done with, Irene Redfield lingered for a little while in the downstairs hall, looking out at the soft flakes fluttering down. She was watching them immediately fill some ugly irregular gaps left by the feet of hurrying pedestrians [...]
The visual imagery of the white snowflakes filling the "ugly irregular gaps" left by pedestrians paints a stark, black-and-white picture for the reader. The white snow covering the dark pavement below also visually mirrors the act of passing—the footprints that melt the snow mirror the way outward appearances can conceal inner realities. Like Clare, the snow is a white covering for the "blackness" beneath. This reflects Irene's internal anxieties about Clare's decision to "pass" as white while married to Bellew, a white supremacist. The inevitable melting of the snow aligns with her fears that Clare’s true Black identity will someday reveal itself, no matter how careful she is.
This imagery also foreshadows the trouble that is about to unfold, as Clare contacts Irene immediately after this moment of anxious reflection. The unsettling scene sets a tone of apprehension for whatever follows it, tainting Clare’s phone call with a sense of impending disaster.