Word: fronted
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Stout, heavy-jawed, small-eyed Viscount Rothermere sat on a front bench at the justice's left while his attorneys, headed by tall, beak-nosed King's Counsel Sir William Jowitt, vigorously charged that the plaintiff had no moral right to bring into court as evidence confidential letters, some of which they say she took off her employer's desk without his knowledge. Counsel added feelingly that Lord Rothermere had no idea that she kept photostats of highly confidential material at any time...
Snitching letters and keeping photostats are what every Mystery Woman does and "Toffi," as she is also called, sat looking pleased with herself, on a front bench at the justice's right. A stumpy, determined, middle-aged woman, she wisely wore a quiet black dress and small black hat with large black velvet snood into which she tucked her mouse-brown hair. Her attorney, King's Counsel Mr. Gilbert Beyfus, opened cautiously by tracing events back twelve years to his client's first meeting with Lord Rothermere. The Viscount, he declared, "told the Princess in 1927 that...
...broke out, Aristide Briand's dream has walked again. When the first Allied shot was fired, many thoughtful Britons began worrying less about what war would be like than about what possible peace could follow it. Many a Briton did not expect young men going to the front to refrain from asking: What are we fighting for? Can we have something better this time than another Versailles and another...
Last week when Marcel Tabuteau sat out in front of the orchestra at a Manhattan concert and soloed in Mozart's Quartet in F Major for Oboe and Strings, hard-boiled critics threw kisses at the ceiling, and at the end of the first movement the audience cheered. Marcel Tabuteau grinned uneasily, but he did not rise to acknowledge the applause. When it was all over he boosted himself out of his chair and hobbled off the stage. Marcel Tabuteau had the gout. For two weeks, on tour, he had been traveling in wheel chairs, ambulances, on crutches...
...courage to stay away, he goes to all his openings (arriving with the ushers) and suffers through them. He hates first-night audiences-the swishiest and toughest gang in the world-and usually hangs backstage, "so I don't have to look at all those bastards out front." He is in a constant dither that his show will flop. After one opening that had the audience rolling in the aisles, the leading man found Kaufman crushed against a wall "looking a little like the late Marie Antoinette in the tumbril...