Word: bents
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...social economy. Rapplly, Smith has no set, doctrinaire principles," but possesses a mind free for new experience and responsive to its directions. During his long tenure of political leadership in Albany, he has achieved great things for liberal causes. Above all, he has proved that his temperament and the bent of his mind compel him to the ways of liberalism. He has done very much to improve labor and social economic conditions, particularly for women; under the fiercest tests, he has shown a deep understanding of political liberty; he has infused his government with human sympathy which transcends even tolerance...
Sixteenth Century. Orlando knelt in crimson breeches, offering the Queen a bowl of rose water before she dined. He saw her crabbed sickly hand flash with heavy jewels; she saw his dark curls bent so reverently, and that night deeded him the great monastic manor that had belonged to the Archbishop, then to Henry VIII. Orlando scribbled five-act tragedies, a dozen histories, a score of sonnets, until the Queen summoned him to Whitehall. Chains of office, jewelled Garter, sad embassy to the Queen of Scots, but from the bitter Polish Wars Elizabeth detained her darling. Her old heart broke...
...Vera,' he said, going into the kitchen. She kissed him closing her eyes slowly. When she kissed him like that, closing her eyes, he felt that he had not known her very long and watched her moving around the kitchen. He sat down on a kitchen chair. She bent over the sink...
...widow Angeline was resourceful. While she put little store by such things herself, she knew that Parisian women loved to soften their skins with greasy pastes, loved to create an artificial bloom to replace the natural color which had faded. The widow Angeline bent over the kitchen stove, mixing potions, whipping them into creams. Each ingredient she showed to the round-eyed, intelligent boy. Thus Louis Philippe was trained to become, not a king, but a maker of cosmetics...
Last week, the widow Angeline, 72, still shuffled about the factory in a faded blue denim dress, big, loose-fitting shoes. Each day at noon she bent over her stove, but she was preparing eggs, not unguents. To her alone is entrusted the task of cooking lunch for Son Louis, now a fattish little man with the traditional French pointed mustache. The widow Angeline has never troubled to learn English, but she knows that Son Louis has made money. She knows he has four motor cars, a home in fashionable Park Avenue, another in a New York suburb, four more...