Word: cafee
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...officer at the head of the formation of haggard reservists said the men behind the barricades were now mainly members of the civilian-military organizations led by Lagaillarde and Joseph Ortiz, a cafe owner...
...Hong Kong's Cafe de Chine, 500 guests sat down to a lavish celebration that included a 14-course dinner, scenes from Peking operas, Soochow poetry recitations, drinking and dancing. The host was Insurance Tycoon Cornelius Vander Starr, 67, and the occasion was the 40th anniversary of his insurance company, the largest independent international insurance agency in the world, with branches from Paris to Phnom Penh. Starr, who started his business in the Far East, could well afford the celebration. Last week his American International Insurance Corp. reported that in 1959 it collected $155 million in life and general...
...dialogue awakened cafe scents of strong smoke, dry cognac and refracted thought ("Suppose you die and find out that the dead are only the living playing at being dead")And the story of an intellectual mamma's boy Communist up against a tough, cynical but gallant revolutionary was shot through with Marxist analysis. With such qualities Jean-Paul Sartre's Crime of Passion seemed an unlikely play for TV. But viewers in the New York area saw it last week, in a full-length and absorbing production, well acted by a cast that included Claude Dauphin and Betsy...
Died. Dwight Fiske, 67, nightclub raconteur-pianist, whose bawdy songs in free verse derided and titillated cafe society in the '20s and '30s, once caused the entire Albuquerque Rotary Club to walk out on him; in Manhattan. Fiske made pretentious women his special target (Queen Anne, Miss Elaine of Boston, Gretchen Goudonofi, Malaga the Grape Girl), but he was also unkind to Marc Antony ("Cleopatra thought this was so swell / She had the Fig Newtons passed around, / Which only gave Marc Antony a case of hiccups / She misconstrued this for emotion...
...demi-mondaines cross "our boy and girl's" path, yawning at each other with remarks such as, "Is this your lighter that I found under my pillow, or does it belong to Jacques?" While these two sip cognac in a fancy burlesque, "our two" gulp coffee at a sidewalk cafe. Both women call their lovers "Mon Petit." When one Mon Petit loses his duck, Napoleon, the other Mon Petit wonders why anyone would bother to put a string around a duckling's neck. This dichotomy arises often enough to keep continuity, it adds tart to the essentially sweet story...