Word: inamorata
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...Mont-gomery), who has groped to young manhood in blindness, the spinster is kind, therefore beautiful. He venerates her as he does his own frowsy mother, who, when he was seven and still had his sight, must have been a golden beauty. His illusion of a pretty, black-eyed inamorata brings his first sex consciousness. It sweeps into his life with bewildering ecstasy, as the music of a symphony orchestra might come suddenly to a chanting savage. Into his world of sound, thus transposed by fancy to a heavenly harmony, intrude the raucous gratings of the boarding house. He hears...
...fell in love with 15-year-old Sophy Hopkey, made the saving of her soul his excuse for a prolonged and unculminated courtship. When she, tired of his reluctance to propose, married William Williamson, John Wesley flew into a silly and destructive rage. Not content to relinquish his inamorata, he pursued her with persecutions, driving her away from Holy Communion, questioning the legality of her marriage. At last, after she miscarried a child, her husband sued the man of God. Before the case was tried he left the colonies, returned to England with the Word of God, to found Methodism...
Captain Anthony Jones, having lived long in Arabia with an extensive harem, is as innocent of Western scruples as he is full of fiery fascination. His is the poetic aplomb that can borrow from another inamorata's father the jet trotters necessary and fitting for his sleigh ride to seduce Lanice at a snug suburban...
...this case love is deaf and cannot hear. That it is a case of love, there can be no doubt; for he, the typical yodeler pursues the object of his passion, the very elusive and unattainable yodel, at all hours of the day and night. He kneels at his inamorata's shrine when first he wakes; and at the solemn hours of mid-night he flats a few sweet notes as the last strain of his farewell serenade before he goes to bed, or in the early morning he chirps out his cheerful clear-toned song to tell his fellow...
...University. We acknowledge that the Beacon has proved conclusively that there are both men and women at Boston University. We should not say, however, judging from the last number of the Beacon, that those men and women were also ladies and gentlemen. The poet of the Beacon invites his inamorata to a promenade on the campus, which is the Boston University name for the Common. By the way, is it not a little inconsistent for a paper which has such a holy aborrence of a lager-beer saloon as the Beacon to take rum in its tea? We are afraid...