Word: awaited
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Five gleaming stainless steel fifty gallon vats bubble soup and stewing tongues; rows of spotless oak cutting boards hold heaps of fresh vegetables ready for processing; seven yards of jet griddle await the thousands of hot dogs sleeping for the moment beside legs of lamb, bacon, and hams in the clean coolness of mammoth refrigerators. The Central Kitchen rests like a well-bathed giant, poised to galvanize its members into action...
Capitalist Shangri-La. Bitter over high taxes, Government interference, the scorn of intellectuals and the reproof of religious leaders, the really tough-minded tycoons gradually withdraw from society to a hideout in the mountains. There, under the leadership of a mysterious physicist named John Gait, they await the fall of the old, Socialist-crippled, soft and degenerate order, so they can build a new society. The mountain-ringed capitalist Shangri-La sounds like a prospectus for an exclusive, upper-middle-class suburb in Westchester, and is dominated by a slim granite column upholding a solid-gold dollar sign. (Readers...
...Spit on Her." It was in Charlotte that the worst trouble occurred-and, in a dramatic sense, it was in Charlotte that the finest victory was won. A crowd began to gather at 8:30 a.m. to await the only Negro assigned to Harding High School (three others were sent to other schools). Mrs. John Z. Warlick, small, shrill wife of a truck driver, began whipping up excitement. "It's up to you to keep her out," she told teen-age boys. At 10:30 a.m., the crowd spotted the girl: Dorothy Geraldine Counts, 15, daughter of a theology...
...Says Gabin: "Then you will be forced to become a boss. See where dishonesty can lead?" Gabin continues to enjoy his larks even after a German patrol catches them in a no-porking zone. But Bourvil, marooned in the smallness of what he is, can only sweat in fear, await the Nazi punishment-and look ahead to a life spent carrying other people's suitcases...
...last week, Rachele Mussolini stood in the family cemetery at Predappio while the body of her husband Benito Mussolini, hidden for years in a Capuchin monastery by a government conscious of its value as a symbol to neoFascists, was formally identified, then placed under a tricolor to await burial. Next day during three Masses, some 500 shouting, banner-waving Fascists broke a pledge against demonstrations, milled about the chapel, and while Rachele stood motionless, gave the blackshirt salute and knelt before the coffin. Later, Italy's old-time Duce was buried beside his blacksmith father and schoolteacher mother...