Fathomlessly

Prior Albert. Son! you relapse into revenge, If you regret your enemy’s bloodless death. Siegendorf. His death was fathomlessly deep in blood.

[…] she had had glimpses enough of the scene: of the audience of bright elderly women, with snowy hair, eurythmic movements, and finely-wrinkled over-massaged faces on which a smile of glassy benevolence sat like their rimless pince-nez. They were all inexorably earnest, aimlessly kind and fathomlessly pure […]

[…] Wani’s look was so fathomlessly interesting to him […]