Word: exhaustingly
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...disappeared in the darkness like a comet with a trail of brilliant flame from the engine exhaust," said Pilot C. J. Melrose to a group of worried Singapore airport officials one night last week. Just in after a bad battle with a monsoon over the Bay of Bengal between Allahabad and Singapore, Pilot Melrose in his slow plane had seen the sleek Lockheed-Altair Ladv Southern Cross of Air Commodore Sir Charles Edward Kingsford-Smith rocket past at 200 m.p.h., only 200 ft. above the waves. At that rate he should have reached Singapore long before Pilot Melrose. But when...
...moments, it pours out superb tenor singing in a flood interrupted only at intervals, and not seriously, by patches of story; scatters brief festoons, long streamers and big solid chunks of song as prodigally as if it were the purpose of Producer Jesse Lasky and Singer Nino Martini to exhaust the world's supply of tenor music. True, Martini, after a few scales, goes into a popular piece Here's To Romance by Conn Conrad, but then he warms to this work. He sings Le Reve from Manon Lescaut, parts of Cavalier ia Rusticana, and Leoncavallo...
...fuel was used to power a small, 3-h.p. test engine of one cylinder, running at 1,200 r.p.m. Heat conveyed from the exhaust vaporizes the Solene and it is then drawn directly into the combustion chamber. There is no carburetor. The exhaust is almost entirely clear, indicating nearly complete combustion. Although they have no test data to prove it, Solene's sponsors think it will mean fuel economy and increased flying range for airplanes. A wick lamp filled with it burned seven times as long as with kerosene...
...gear ratio slightly above normal. It weighs only 8 lb. per h. p., would cost some 10% more than a gasoline engine to put into mass production. It has no spark plugs, no ignition system, no carburetor, is free from carbon. There is no fire or explosion hazard. The exhaust gas is nonpoisonous...
...doors tight behind him. When the motor of his Packard sedan settled down to a quiet hum, he climbed out of the front seat, walked to the rear of the garage. Carefully taking off his hat, he lay down on the cement floor, a foot from the purring exhaust. At seven in the morning the maid found the motor still running. Bowen Tufts was dead...