Word: chitchatted
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...about the first ten or fifteen minutes this chitchat goes on: "Isn't Gay wonderful?" "Wonderful!! She's the most enchanting, bewitching creature . . . I've already proposed six times. . . etc." By this time, a suspicion has arisen that this isn't going to be a play at all, but that Miss Gordon has attempted to write a tour do force for herself. This is confirmed when the leading man dies at the end of the first...
...knowing crystal-gazer. But brawny Irving Kupcinet (pronounced CUP-senate) had proved, to the satisfaction of Marshall Field's Chicago Sun-Times, that one good local columnist will outsell all the syndicated canned goods on the market. "Kup's Column," a casually tossed salad of chitchat and nightclub gossip with a Leonard Lyons-like flavor, is easily the most widely read feature in Chicago...
...signs blossomed in bar windows and store fronts. At Republican National Committee headquarters in the Bellevue-Stratford hotel, party-workers checked over lists of page-boys, sergeants-at-arms, ushers and doorkeepers for the great National Convention. Candidates' headquarters came to life. Crowded hotel lobbies buzzed with the chitchat and greetings of guests, politicians, camp followers and swarming newsmen...
TIME, March 29, most likely under the influence of delicatessen dining, accuses Thomas More of having been overly fond of corned beef. I am at a loss to account for the source of your information. Perhaps you drew on your carnivorous imagination or relied on some biographical chitchat for this impeachment of More's anti-slaughter principles. I have re-examined the Ethics of Diet by Howard Williams for some verification of this corned beef calumny, without finding the slightest substantiation. On the contrary, in More's justly famed Utopia, we find the Utopians condemning every form...
...Miami Beach, which has been rather quiet, arrived Virginia Hill, high-strung girl friend of the late Gangster Bugsy Siegel. Virginia had flown from France, where she had swung at a reporter and kicked at photographers. Police met her at New York and engaged her in private chitchat between planes. On the Miami airfield she told reporters she had nothing to say, and, between chomps on her gum, asked them if they didn't understand English. She then joined the police again. They took her to her classy island home in Biscayne Bay, where she settled down to enjoy...