Word: lank
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...star is discovered, between acts, in his dressing room. He is wearing a Viking's helmet, complete with horns, over a wig of lank brown hair, a corset over a lace shirt. On his right hand there is a boxing glove. He claims, in the rich, ripe tones of yesteryear's provincial matinee idol, that he was about to do his imitation of Queen Victoria, but that he has forgotten what she looks like. The program's ever harassed star and manager, who just happens to be a very green, very agreeable frog, tells his guest that though he loves...
...funeral directors are expected to be lank, lugubrious, waxen creatures like their customers, Mickey Milam, a smiling cherub of a man, provides the perfect antistereotype. In the Chapel of the Chimes, flanked by potted palms and backed by taped music, Mickey delivers his stand-up speech on the history, evolution, and utter necessity of the funeral home professional. Who else knows just how to suture the lips shut? Who else knows just where to make the incision so "you're gonna get your best drainage...
Linda is 30 now. Her skin is flawed, and her lank dark hair is sketched with gray. She has great wet marmot eyes. She has a quick, sly mouth. She looks like a 17-year-old who has spent three days on a bus. A photographer whose profession calls for him to make cool calibrations of female beauty says her face is ordinary and her body nothing special. In courtly times he would have been skewered. She sings You 're No Good, Desperado or Love Has No Pride, and the eye of the beholder mists over. She is beautiful...
...build a "click" into the machine, "so the woman knows the keys are responding," he explains as he walks through the payroll division. It is past 5 p.m. now and the desks and offices on the third floor are empty, while Brown-Beasley, a square and compact man with lank hair and a clipped, Anglicized voice, struts cheerfully over the clutch of wires that is the insulated umbilical for the machine. "Many nights I've slept here by these machines," he says...
...Wilson Kipling even looked the part. Born in Bombay and brought up in India until six, he was "a swarthy boy with lank straight hair, who might almost pass for a Hindu." At that point his parents farmed him out to relatives in England, sadistic moralists after the Dickensian type who brutalized him until public school took over. The battered child became a lifelong hater who never quite managed to spit out all his venom...