Word: overcoat
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...Confidential Clerk wears a full-length farcical overcoat; on the outside, all is mistaken identity and mixed-up parentage. It opens with Sir Claude Mulhammer, a financier who yearns to be a potter, taking on as private secretary his illegitimate son, Colby Simpkins-a young man who yearns to be an organist. If Sir Claude's wife, Lady Elizabeth, should take a liking to Colby, Sir Claude means to adopt him. Already part of the household are Lucasta Angel, his illegitimate daughter, and B. (for Barnabas) Kaghan, a foundling whom Lucasta plans to marry. Lady Elizabeth...
...opened "This valentine is guaranteed. . " and then groaned slightly when a pop-out gorilla leered at him with the inscription, ". . . to scare the YELL out of you." I guess I'm just too old to appreciate these things any more, Vag mumbled as he hunched under his tweed overcoat, and strode with determined sophistication out the door...
Almost at once Queen Frederika displayed the relaxed charm which has endeared her to the people of Greece. In the open Cadillac, on the way into Washington, she helped Secretary Dulles into his overcoat. When someone shouted "Zito!" (Greek for long live), Frederika's pretty face lighted up with a smile. During the welcoming ceremonies in front of the District Building, the Queen gravely returned the impudent wink of a reporter. A few minutes later, under the White House porte-cochere, the President and Mrs. Eisenhower hurried down the steps to greet their old friends. "May you find...
...Tears, for Tributes. Their honeymoon in Acapulco inspired María Bonita ("Remember those nights in Acapulco, María of my soul?"). She called him "My Skinny" (Lara says he weighs 120 Ibs. "with an overcoat on"). He rained minks, Cadillacs and diamonds on María. But the rising young star was hard to hold, and they were divorced in 1947, leaving Lara heartbroken. He told friends: "I love María too much . . . Rather than kill her I prefer to divorce...
...finished knotting his tic, Vag saw by his bureau clock that he had only five minutes before roll-call, and the parade ground was a half mile away. Dashing down stairs, he began an awkward jog up the street, puffing under the weight of his overcoat. By the time he reached the Square, a trickle of perspiration was wetting his starched shirt collar, and Vag slowed to recoup his breath...