Word: foreheads
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...last, warmed and exhilarated, a little exhausted, Rocko and Tubeless stood together on the veranda of Briggs Hall, Radcliffe, still murmuring snatches of Harvard songs, chuckling quietly, rubbing noses, and displaying similar bits of lunchy sentimentality. Rocko ran his nose along her forehead, savoring the fragrance of her clean blond hair, watching the darkness of the Briggs Hall veranda. It was only then that he noticed another couple, embracing. The girl seemed to be resisting, and as she turned her head away from her escort, Rocko heard her speak: "Oh don't, Hubert. Please, Hubert. Don't ruin it." Rocko...
...earlier bravura style in favor of a deeper maturity and more finely modeled values. Hals still gave the wealthy young housewife's finery its due, from dangling earrings to her triangular, diaphanous white fichu primly pinned with a golden ribbon bow. But in the modeling of the forehead, he has also suggested the very qualities which her husband (whose supposed portrait hangs in Kansas City's Nelson Gallery) no doubt most prized: not proud and haughty beauty but industry neatness and the solid virtue of goodness...
...high, middle or low? Noting that on his return "the prince's hair was even closer to his eyebrows than usual," London's more or less crewcut Daily Express pressed the attack with a monumental grouse: "Not one photograph of him has ever revealed his forehead!" The trail led to an elegant tonsorial emporium called Trumper's, which fortnightly dispatches a barber named Crisp to the palace to shear Charles (price of the haircut: 62?). What manner of brow lurks beneath the Prince's plunging forelock? "We never," announced Trumper's aloofly, "discuss the heir...
...Next!" called the director as he opened the door to let a young man with a tan sweater, a crew cut, and a moist forehead leave. The girl in green, still clutching the script, entered the casting room. The large room was scattered with broken furniture, the floors were bare, the walls empty. The director's welcome echoed against the dirty windows while the producer smiled reassuringly from behind an ancient desk. They chatted for a few moments about the play and the weather--the director, the producer, and the young actress...
After that, the growing drama of the boy's unhappy betrothal to a human girl is developed through the dancers' fingertips-pointing at the eyes to indicate tears, at the forehead for mystification, at the ceiling to swear by all that's holy, etc. There are magic veils, palm reading and plots until the sylph's little wings drop off and, faltering as if blind, she dies. When, amid all this fabulizing, they get a chance to dance, the Danes are light on their toes-as if the stage were covered with foam rubber-and their...