Word: half-moons
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Unruffled as always, British justice, is the person of periwigged Sir Reginald Powell Croom-Johnson, peered over the rims of its half-moon spectacles and remarked with acerbity: "This is a very ordinary case." But to the ruddy-cheeked Sussex countrymen who jammed a Lewes courtroorn last week, the air seemed charged with mysterious mesmeric forces. There was, for example, the plea of plaintiff's counsel that the defendant "should not sit anywhere in sight" of his client. "You are asking," inquired Justice Croom-Johnson, "that he should not hypnotize her?" Barrister John Flowers, Queen's Counsel, replied...
...Through Half-Moon Glasses. Cripps was the walking symbol as well as the architect of Britain's postwar austerity program. Prim and trim, he looked like a governess and talked like one. He was always telling Britons what they could not have. It was not Cripps's fault that meat was scarce but many Britons blamed him for that when he looked coldly through his half-moon glasses and announced that he did not consider meat "an edible substance." His very name suggested the sound of a crunching cold raw carrot, which was, in fact, one of Vegetarian...
When dawn came, the marines seemed to draw encouragement from the sight of the three high-speed transports which had accompanied us, the two destroyers which stood in close to Wolmi, and the three rocket craft resting in a half-moon formation. "Lower the stern gate," barked a loudspeaker. The marines scrambled back to the landing craft; the low barrier separating the LSD's welldeck from the sea outside was cranked down. Slowly the tankand troop-laden LSUs backed stern first into the open...
...took the tuxedoed auctioneer 2¾ hours to sell 60 sleek thoroughbreds for a record $1,553,500. The setting was impressive; a pale half-moon hung over the infield at Santa Anita; there were as many rows of press tables as at a heavyweight fight. Powerful spotlights flooded the auction ring in front of the clubhouse, making the horses nervous as they were led in one by one, numbers glued to their hindquarters. Everybody who amounted to anything in Southern California's racetrack and cinema industries (an almost interchangeable cast of characters) was there...
...summer season was in full, gay swing last week along the smooth, half-moon beach at swank San Sebastian, official summer playground of Spanish officials and Madrid's diplomatic corps. But while some of Fascist Franco's officials relaxed on the white sand, others renewed their vigilance over the nation's morals...