Word: mayfairs
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...London, Princess Margaret, who usually plays the field in picking her escorts, excited Mayfair society by dating Mark Bonham-Carter, British army hero of World War II, three evenings in a row. What intrigued the self-appointed matchmakers even more was the tune which, by request, a cabaret singer kept repeating: Let's Do It ("Let's fall in love"). On a later evening, Margaret deserted Mark to attend a benefit ice show at London's Empress Hall, was snapped by a photographer as she entered, smiling but without escort...
...suggestion. "The more efficient the mask." said one spokesman, "the more difficult it is to breathe through, particularly in the case of bronchitic patients." But London shopkeepers were quick to seize on the mask. At the end of two days, many London chemists had sold all their gauze. Mayfair milliners hastily sketched up a line of fashionable "smoggles" in tulle, velvet and chiffon to please the modish dyspneic. One dress designer announced a "bunny mask" modeled on a rabbit's nose and containing a special filter. In the murk outside the Tottenham Court tube station, one Londoner-Shipping Clerk...
This time the news had the ring of authenticity. It was not the story of a glittering princess who had found her Prince Charming in the fairyland of Mayfair, but of a girl whose increasingly sober face in the newspictures seemed to reflect a deeply troubled heart. The fact was that 22-year-old Margaret was in love with a Battle-of-Britain hero of the R.A.F., a divorced commoner of 38. Family loyalty, religious responsibility, the duty of royalty-all seemed warring with the romantic impulse in the pretty princess' heart...
...Britain. Chestnuts were pushing out baby buds, and clotted cream was off the ration and was being spread thickly on Devonshire scones. Talk of peace (if not peace itself) was in the air. A queen would soon be crowned; the sound of hammering could be heard all over Mayfair as viewing stands went up.* Rab Butler's budget matched what seemed to be a common British resolve: to make the coronation year a gala occasion...
...likelihood that either murder or muddle will halt soon. The sullen masses of evicted blacks in the overrun reserves; the white farmers and their wives besieged in their farmhouses with revolvers next to the dinner plates; the bearded commandos stumbling through forests after the elusive Mau Mau; the brittle Mayfair-in-suburbia life of spuriously gay Nairobi ; the purple-faced ex-colonels in the very, very particular Rift Valley Club- none of them seeming to know what to do. Not even the Mau Mau themselves seem to know what they really want-except to kill and disembowel as many whites...