Passage 1 (from Mark Twain, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, 1884 — public domain).
Two or three days and nights went by; I reckon I might say they swum by, they slid along so quiet and smooth and lovely. Here is the way we put in the time. It was a monstrous big river down there — sometimes a mile and a half wide; we run nights, and laid up and hid daytimes; soon as night was most gone we stopped navigating and tied up — nearly always in the dead water under a towhead; and then cut young cottonwoods and willows, and hid the raft with them. Then we set out the lines. Next we slid into the river and had a swim, so as to freshen up and cool off; then we set down on the sandy bottom where the water was about knee deep, and watched the daylight come. Not a sound anywheres — perfectly still — just like the whole world was asleep, only sometimes the bullfrogs a-cluttering, maybe.
Passage 2 (from Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence, 1920 — public domain).
In matters intellectual and artistic New York was, in comparison with London, a small provincial city; but having no acknowledged metropolis nearer than Boston, the inhabitants of New York saw no reason to put up with a comparison to anyone else. They were satisfied with what they had, and would have been even more so if they had ever known what they had.
The Wellands' party arrived at the Opera with that air of being slightly later than was "the thing," a punctuality so mathematical that it would have placed them inside the music room a quarter of an hour after the curtain rose. They had been the last to leave; for it was understood, in their set, that all really fashionable people arrived at the Opera not too soon.
Passage 3 (from William Shakespeare, Hamlet, c. 1600 — public domain). Hamlet speaks alone.
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die — to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream — ay, there's the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause.
Across Passages 1, 2, and 3, which technique do ALL THREE authors use most distinctively?