If the old man lied, and had not been in prison all these years, he must have had misery far worse, for neither vice nor poverty alone could so shatter a human being.

The son's pity seemed to look down from a great height upon the contemptible figure with the beautiful white hair and the abominable mouth.

This compassion kept him from becoming hard, but it would also preserve him to hourly sacrifice--Prometheus chained to his rock.

In the short fortnight that had gone since the day upon the Ecrehos, he had changed as much as do most people in ten years.

Since then he had seen neither Philip nor Guida.
To Carterette he seemed not the man she had known.