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Updated: May 3, 2025
He sat alone, like one who has no sympathy either with heaven or earth. But there watched him from the hidden corner eyes he knew not of the wondering, half-pitying eyes of Olive Rothesay. And while she gazed, there came into her heart involuntarily, as if whispered by an unseen angel at her side the words from the Litany words which he himself had coldly read an hoar before:
It was a new thing for the rulers to hand over dangerous patriots, and Pilate had experience enough to suspect that such unusual loyalty concealed something else, and that if Jesus had really been an insurrectionary leader, He would never have fallen into Pilate's power. Accordingly, he gives no serious attention to the case, and his question has a certain half-amused, half-pitying ring about it.
A waiter who had followed him to the door stood looking at him with a half-pitying, half-amused expression on his face as he went off, staggering through the blinding drift. The storm was one of the fiercest of the season, and the air since midnight had become intensely cold.
To any sentiments of the latter nature, Harvey was particularly susceptible. "Children, all of them!" Thus gently apostrophizing the Wallencampers, I dismissed the cause of my brief mental discomfiture, with a half-pitying smile. The day after Mr. 'Lihu's death, I looked down from my desk in school to see the infant Sophronia weeping bitterly. "What is the matter, Sophronia?" I said.
He had no great affection or even regard for Philip Rainham, whom he contemplated with that undefined disdain which a younger man so often feels for one who is too old to be on his own level, and too young to inspire reverence. The half-pitying regard which Mrs.
She felt that the human love she brought there and sought to gratify was pure and unselfish, and that in no sense could it be a desecration of the place and hour. To a nature like hers, her half-pitying love for one so unfortunate as Vinton Arnold was almost as sacred as her faith, and therefore she had no scruple in watching for his appearance.
Miss Skipwith was reading in her parlour, a white Persian cat dozing on a cushioned arm-chair beside her, some cups and saucers and a black teapot on a tray before her, and the rest of the table piled with books. There was no sign of Captain Winstanley. "I'm afraid I'm rather late," Vixen said apologetically. She felt a kind of half-pitying respect for Miss Skipwith, as a harmless lunatic.
The day marched nobly on toward evening, growing out of its blue and silver into a pervasive golden gleam; the bare, grayish houses on the prairie were transformed into miniature palaces of light. Presently a girl came out of the woods behind, looking at the neglected house with a half-pitying curiosity.
He glanced at Miss X with half-pitying, half-kindly, laughing eyes, and said with his ringing voice in Hindi "Bara-Sahib cannot go any further without the help of someone else's eyes. Sahib's eyes are his enemies. Let the Sahib ride on my cow. She cannot stumble." "I! Ride on a cow, and a five-legged one at that?
They would say, the men of his own profession . . . he remembered the half-pitying things that he himself had said when Lockhart's new waterworks burst and broke down in brick-heaps and sludge, and Lockhart's spirit broke in him and he died.
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