Word: beds
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Colonel Rusteika, head of the Lithuanian secret political police, lay on his bed at Kovno last week snoring soundly. Two young students burst into his bedroom, shot him in the head, stabbed him in the body. Colonel Rusteika is corporeally tough. He did not die. The students were captured. Their confession led straight to the most interesting man in Lithuania, Augustine Waldemaras, Prime Minister-Dictator of Lithuania from...
Crusader Takahashi is a bachelor. He lives in an empty barnlike structure which has not been troubled by scrubwomen for months. Reporter Okuyama found him propped up in bed reading a book. Other furniture of the bedroom was a desk, a reed organ or harmonium, a bucket, a pile of books...
Agile for his 53 years, nose-wiping Mr. Takahashi sprang from bed, dressed hastily in a rusty black European suit. With a few deft snips of a pair of shears he transformed the morning paper into a pile of paper handkerchiefs which he stuffed into one pocket, also pocketing a large hand mirror. Round his neck he hung a placard of a Japanese schoolboy with running nose. In brilliant ideographs down the side ran the legend: THIS PICTURE SHOULD NOT BE A SIGNBOARD FOR JAPAN. BLOW YOUR NOSE. OTHERWISE YOU WILL BE LAUGHED AT BY FOREIGNERS. Humbly Reporter Okuyama followed...
...better dentifriced than most English girls', Betty Nuthall was the tournament's only box-office attraction. At the West Side Tennis Club she confounded people who had heard of her as a girl who combined tournament tennis with late dancing. She did not smoke or drink, went to bed nightly at 9:45, declared that she likes to make her own tennis dresses and that she had embroidered the Union Jack and Lion on her coat. Every morning she skipped a rope 700 times, and usually appeared on the courts in red sweaters and headbands because she said that...
...memory of past adulation, fancies of future triumphs were too strong. When an influenza epidemic crippled her old company, she temporarily returned. Nico discovered this the evening he contracted the disease. With fever-bright intuition he understood her history, her strange, wavering duplicity. He left for a hospital bed, bitter, dizzy with illness. The story, which has moved ponderously through a silver-grey atmosphere, ends on the unanswered question of Jenny's future...