Word: hotly
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...weeks ago, the Mavericks gathered in a San Antonio court. Albert Maverick's boy Maury was in trouble. Dr. George Maverick came all the way from New York, smoked his pipe with an air of "I'm here if needed." Pretty Maverick girls flashed hot glances at anti-Mavericks...
...play does all it can to cooperate. A piece of monstrous twaddle, so old-fashioned as to be almost refreshing, it concerns three generations of a hot-blooded Boer family who live somewhere on the veldt. The husbands systematically bully the wives, and the wives systematically bump off the husbands. Home life, between whiles, is saved from monotony by Satan (who arrives so punctually each day he could just as well deliver the mail), assorted ghosts, the old lady's coffin (which, pending its final function, she uses as a kind of chaise longue), windstorms, shotguns, sluts from...
People who go to Dr. Rathbone to be relaxed usually complain of pains in their backs and legs, stiff necks, indigestion, insomnia. First thing she does is to have them thoroughly examined by a doctor. Then she massages and applies hot pads to their tensest muscles. Because relaxing is largely psychological, Dr. Rathbone puts her pupils through a course in learning how to control their muscles, cultivating the will to relax. When they go to bed, she advises them, they must repeat to themselves: "I will not permit the tensions that have beset me during the day to return...
...gloomy autocrat, Bodanzky drove every performance he conducted with a tight rein, lashed world-famed tenors and sopranos at rehearsals with a hot tongue ("Who told you you could sing?"). When he was feeling impatient he would sometimes drag a performance over the jumps as if he were rushing for a train. But when Artur Bodanzky felt just right, he could drive a pack of Valkyries through the Nibelung clouds like Wotan himself...
When a Frenchman, over his hot brioches and chocolate, unfolds his morning paper to stare at gaping columns of white space, he shrugs and murmurs philosophically : "Anastasie!" A haggard, black-gowned, crotchety old maid, armed with an immense pair of shears, Anastasie is a characteristic creation of Gallic wit. She personifies the tightlipped, prudish silence clamped on the French press in wartime...