Word: mistressing
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Lost Ballast. Long, fascinating, witty, sometimes hilarious, The Great Forgery is a comedy only in the ironic sense. Years after, Hanshawe and Cassy visit the old man, who is holed up in a rackety studio like a frowsty old terrier. After a few obscene remarks to his ex-mistress, the irrepressible Gorer turns on the millionaire with defiant, mocking scorn: "You make your pile, and with it on your backs you know you'll never again get airborne. But old Gorer, he's got rid of all that ballast. At least you can come and watch...
...such terms did the defense attorney for Irvin C. Scarbeck, 41, a former U.S. embassy official in Poland, describe his client last week. Scarbeck's inner softness led him to lift thin, black-haired Urszula Discher, 22, "up from the gutter," take her as his mistress and then protect her from public disclosure by feeding secrets to Communist agents who had photographed them in bed together...
...tongued, to his dedicated under ling: "I like the way you thinch, Fink." Naturally, there are booby traps in the corridors of power. There is J.B.'s nephew, Frump (Charles Nelson Reilly), who has the looks and the instincts of a praying mantis. There is J.B.'s mistress, Hedy La Rue (Virginia Martin), a carrot-topped vixen with a 14-karat heart. And there is the mating-call girl, played by raven-haired Bonnie Scott, who is all ready to be an office widow in the suburbs, "basking in the glow of his perfectly understandable neglect," even before...
Amoral as a chimpanzee, as empty of brains as a gourd. Cecilia possesses at 17 the troubling sexuality that inevitably unhinges Moravia's men. She is the mistress of a 65-year-old painter who has a studio down the hall. When the old painter dies of a heart attack (induced, say the neighbors, by too much Cecilia), it is Dino's turn. What follows is the old sexual war that Moravia has refought too many times. In scenes so explicit as to make publishers of cheap paperbacks slaver for the reprint rights, Dino dies a thousand deaths...
...likes to think that the CRIMSON BOOKSHELF is rather like a dirigible, which, pumped full of a light and heady Gas that, though adhering to the Laws of the eminent Boyle and the estimable Charles, has, nevertheless, that unfettered property which given materialistic Science--now soi-disant Mistress of all Nature, but once the scullery maid of the great scholastic Doctors, who in their wisdom, their prescience and their closeness to the truths of the human Heart did not denigrate those Books of non-cumulative Knowledge (among which one may number the most precious Jewels in the Diadem of Civilization...