Word: bloodhounded
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...never bade him return until her life was at stake before the perfectly accurate charges of jealous and mighty Sir Meliagrance. The interim was Elaine's one happy season. When Lancelot was found in the forest and brought, bound, into young Galahad's new bloodhound kennels, she nursed the grizzled giant back to sanity. Galahad, who grew to rival his father at arms, kept him at her castle for several years of half-happiness, though Lancelot never ceased to love Guinevere. This Elaine, honest, fearless, beautiful, has caught her author's sympathies...
...Then along came a harmless-looking newspaperman, Thomas H. Adams, with a fabulous story of Ku Klux Klan "super-government" in the ranks of Hoosier Republicanism. His charges have not yet been proved, but they make good campaign material. Last week Senator James A. Reed, wary slush bloodhound, stalked into Indiana for one day, long enough to hear Senators Watson and Robinson deny any connection with the Klan's taint. Unless the Democrats can "get the goods," Senator Watson looms for reelection, with Senator Robinson as his more doubtful ticket companion...
...lights dimmed. Suddenly Queen Alexandrine screamed as a heavy bundle of papers hurtled from the balcony into her lap. Other leaflets fluttered like autumn leaves through the house. From the gallery a voice boomed: "Long live Finland! Down with Relander, the bloodhound of Helsingfors...
...stir in the press was caused by the announcement that Governor Jonathan and Mrs. Trumbull of Connecticut would pay a visit of several days at the White House on their way to a vacation in Florida. Like a bloodhound the press smelled romance, drawing various conclusions from these premises: John Coolidge met the Trumbulls on a special train going to Washington for his father's inauguration; John is at Amherst And Jean Trumbull, the Governor's daughter, is at Mt. Holyoke ten miles away; twice John has visited the Trumbulls at Hartford...
...Philadelphia. From a trunk swung low behind the gas tank, the curve of the tonneau rose to melt in grace, in vibrant repose, in transcendent muscular languor, into the forward thrust of the hood. The steel mudguards swept over the front wheels with the curve-like ripple of a bloodhound's shoulder-thews; they began where most mudguards stop and curved insolently toward each other far out against the bumper, where the four frosted eyes of the car glare at the daylight. Inside the steel shell was a boudoir of swansdown upholstery finished in velvet of Cleopatra green, a color...