Word: nondescripts
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...dotty Dowager Empress Tz'u Hsi, diverting funds allotted for naval construction, the imperial plaisanterie occupies 700 acres and attracts huge numbers of Chinese rubbernecks. And then there are the Ming Tombs and, a few hours away, the Great Wall. Otherwise the city is nondescript and marred by Stalinoid architecture...
Finally last week, on the day after the Schleyer memorial services, Willy Peter Stoll's luck ran out. A woman recognized him as he sat sipping a beer in a nondescript Chinese restaurant near the Düsseldorf railroad station. She alerted the police. Minutes later, two plainclothesmen walked into the restaurant, sat down, studied their quarry for a couple of minutes. Then they rose, approached Stoll and ordered him to surrender. Dropping his hands like a Western gunfighter, Stoll reached for a 9-mm. pistol concealed in his jacket. Before he could draw...
Earle and Semyonov get together weekly with only their interpreters present. They alternate between the local Soviet diplomatic mission and U.S. SALT headquarters, a nondescript modern office building originally built to house Playboy Financier Bernie Cornfeld's Investors Overseas Services before his empire collapsed in 1970. Even though Earle and Semyonov have known each other for five years, their relationship is strictly business. They address each other as "Mr. Ambassador" and "Mr. Minister," and Semyonov often speaks from notes or even prepared texts...
...MISTER?" abroad black face inquires, and your eyes follow his extended hand to a junkyard-special '67 Chevy that is obviously suffering in the heat. Whatever color it may have been originally, time has faded it to a sort of nondescript grey. You start to move, then remember--it's not yellow, it has no medallion form the Taxi Commission, it's a gypsie cab. A hundred newspaper headlines fire the peculiar sort of panic that only the truly paranoid feel. The visions of being driven to some out-of-the-way alley, held up and perhaps shot by this...
...good. At times the novel reads as if Greene had entered a Graham Greene write-alike contest. The principal character is British Intelligence Agent Maurice Castle-a surname that pointedly suggests the guarded and lonely aspects of both the man's profession and character. The settings include the nondescript corridors and offices of "the firm," interiors of London gentlemen's clubs, a richly cluttered bookshop and the drab comforts of Castle's semidetached house in suburban Berkhamsted. It is the town where Greene himself grew up, a schoolteacher's son so bored that he played Russian...