Word: bosomed
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...Grand Opera, most heroes and heroines, ample of brisket and bosom, love and suffer loudly and straightforwardly. When the tenor and soprano get in one of their deplorable, inevitable fixes, they inevitably thrash their arms, square off at high Cs. Not so the hero and heroine of Pelleas et Mélisande, Achille-Claude Debussy's 40-year-old opera (his only completed one) based on the play by Maurice Maeterlinck. Laid in "an unknown land" in a vaguely medieval time, Pelleas is elusive, dreamy, half-said, half-unsaid. Of all her troubles, Mélisande never says anything...
...Yankees who have bought and restored great estates, on Northern industrialists who in the last ten years have built factories on the city's outskirts-looks down even on the rest of South Carolina when it stoops to push for prosperity. The temperament of old Charleston invigorates the bosom of 71-year-old, baggy-suited Dr. William Watts Ball, editor of the Charleston News & Courier...
Down the hill from Lawrence's grave, where the head of Broad Street nudges Wall Street's pinched bosom, stands the sedate seven-story building of J. P. Morgan & Co., its marble walls still pitted from the famed bomb explosion of Sept. 16, 1920. There last week a tradition no less glamorous than wooden ships, more weighty in world history than the U. S. Navy, symbolically died and was buried. Dust with Lawrence was the personal liability of its partners for the debts of J. P. Morgan & Co.; on April 1 and thenceforth it will...
...shoulders, set hard as rocks, showed what he was going through. He was getting groggy, the deadly curare poison was getting him. Butch brought the poker, and Doc shoved it into the wounds. 'Cauterize them,' he grunted. There was a hissing sound, and Stefani almost screamed, her voluptuous, firm bosom heaving beneath the gauzy Paris creation which she had put on to celebrate the finding of the gold in the Inca ruins. Bradly didn't faint. He was a man. . . . The cannibals charged again, but Butch dipped a stick of dynamite at them and that held them back...
...holy chalice imbibed deep draughts of the juice of the purple grape. His sturdy sword and buckler did he grasp, and kissed for the last time the dainty sleeve which to him his betrothed, the Lily Maid of Noanett, had bequeathed . . . the Lily Maid with lips so red, and bosom white as driven snow...