Word: cousin
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...knew, of course, that so-and-so was the "bagman," a collector of graft and bribes for Mayor Frank Hague, whose machine Kenny served and then ousted. That somebody's indolent cousin had been put "on the pad" by some ward leader's exertions. That every year on "Rice Pudding Day" those lucky enough to receive city patronage or employment kicked back a certain percentage of their gains. That "the little guy" himself distributed work tickets early in the morning to men going to the docks for the shape-up. That, as a matter of course...
...intersections, the Paris police discovered that all of the trains involved passed under the same bridge in the small commune of Viorne near Paris. A housewife in the district, Claire Amelie Lannes, 51, was confronted by detectives and at once confessed to the murder of her deaf-and-dumb cousin and housekeeper. In point of fact, A Place Without Doors was inspired by a slightly different case. In December 1949, a 51-year-old housewife killed her husband with a hatchet and chopped him up into many pieces which she threw off a bridge (Pont de la Montagne Pavee) near...
...sensitive, edgy, intuitive neurasthenic heroine is really a self-inquisitioner who pares away one after another of life's enigmas without revealing a single motive for her crime. The plaints she registers against the cousin-housekeeper are that she was silent, efficient, clean, ate and slept well, and "was too fat for the house." This is rather like the killer in Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart, who murdered his victim because he could not stand his clouded blue eye. With power and wonder, both Poe and Duras show us that an act may be most distinctively human...
...abstain-his stomach has been upset lately. My grandmother, almost jogging around in her long silver-white dress, helps herself. So do I. So do my mother, my three uncles (all of whom are named Sidney), my aunts (Bert and Dot and Frances), and my married cousin Andy. Drinks in hand, we admire a collage of black-and-white family pictures leaning against the wall. Someone says that one of the little babies is me. There is a snapshot of my grandparents; the thirties; they look like Bonnie and Clyde...
...mother, cousin, aunts and uncles were all outside now. Sid Lotenberg, in shiny tuxedo, and my mother, in a long dress, danced around the pool. He sang an old Rodgers and Hart song, "Isn't it Romantic?," as they performed what seemed a fine imitatation of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers...