Word: gilt
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...weather ruins the rest of October, bogging down armor, grounding planes and aggravating the Allies' already tremendous supply problems, Germany's chances of surviving the winter will look better than at any time since the Normandy breakout. Even so, nobody will hand her a gilt-edged certificate positively guaranteeing that she can fight on into...
...lace earrings. Others in towering electric blue or mustard yellow hats racked shiny bicycles in the marble lobby of Maggy Rouff's salon. Past a dead elevator (no electricity) they clattered on two-inch wooden soles up four flights of blue-carpeted stairs, sat down and glorified the gilt chairs in the long showroom. A sprinkling of WACs, a handful of beady-eyed U.S. officers lined the wall. Appraising eyes watched pretty, pert mannequins strut, simper, pirouette...
...handsome, classic auditorium, the San Francisco Opera last week opened its 22nd season with Aïda. A capacity house was pardonably proud, from the cheering galleries to the McNears, Ehrmans and Fleishhackers in their beige and gilt boxes. A roster of the finest stars (many from the Metropolitan), a superb orchestra (the San Francisco Symphony) and a well trained municipal chorus would present four weeks of repertory as elegant as any city could boast. Then the company would move down to Los Angeles, where it would give a Hollywood-studded audience the only really grand opera Los Angeles ever...
...national scene and . . . rescued a civilization from the running clutch of death." Young (35) Author Ardrey 's first novel (his play Thunder Rock has just appeared as a British cinema - TIME, Sept. 25) is crowded with cliches ("I get out the old and battered typewriter") and gilt-edged platitudes ("There are things of beauty in the world of a child that cannot be carried on into man's estate"). But it has enough drama and sparkle to be entertaining in spite of its lurid economics...
Under the big gold dome of San Francisco's City Hall there were sighs and reminiscent laughter. In the press room and in the ornate, blue and gilt Chamber where the City's Board of Supervisors meets, they knew that something wonderful was gone. Ruddy, jut-jawed James B. McSheehy, master of the mangled metaphor, was dead...