Word: pinkish
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...room in Manhattan's swank Wildenstein Galleries six statues went on view this week. All were formalized, slickly modeled, carved from most expensive materials. One female torso had been executed in rose Milan marble, a pinkish metallic veined stone so rare that it may no longer be exported from Italy. Averaging $5,000 apiece in price, all were the work of suave, spectacled Sculptor Boris Lovet-Lorski. At the same time word came from Paris that the Ministry of Fine Arts had decided to invest French taxpayers' money in two Lovet-Lorski pieces: a bronze nude...
...Sinclair Lewis: "Pinkish, redhead, hair smooth and flattened in front, neglected, dishevelled and bunched in brief strands behind. Irritable brow. Long flat plane from temple to collar. Flesh like canned tomatoes with the seeds in it, changing abruptly to cream-colored forehead. Pale blue clever bulgy eyes, glaring dizzily at something in offing, possibly anthill. Sandy eyelashes, invisible eyebrows, lips gathered on a drawstring with puzzled purse like old lady's reticule. Nose of a grocer adding up slip. Freckled hands with an elegant shape, sensitively caressing cigarette. Face wiggles formlessly into collar, long seamy neck to rear. Gold rimmed...
Chief revolter was Francisco Largo Caballero, who claims to be a purer Marxist than Stalin. As allies Largo Caballero had beguiled the pinkish Socialists of onetime Premier Manuel Azaña and the sectional patriots of perennially seceding Catalonia. Señor Lerroux first smashed the Catalan revolt (TIME, Oct. 15). Last week he turned on the pure class war provided by Largo Caballero. As fast as Lerroux jailed anarchist committees, new ones arose. Revolt kept ducking for cover, popping out in a new place, like a prairie gopher. It made soldiers and police trigger-nervous but they remained stanch...
...pinkish thought he stood The Bankerwock with eyes of flame Came underwriting through the wood And burgled as it came...
Last week, in Gary Ross's Manhattan studio, Zelda Fitzgerald showed her pictures, made her latest bid for fame. The work of a brilliant introvert, they were vividly painted, intensely rhythmic. A pinkish reminiscence of her ballet days showed figures with enlarged legs and feet-a trick she may have learned from Picasso. An impression of a Dartmouth football game made the stadium look like the portals of a theatre, the players like dancers. Chinese Theatre was a gnarled mass of acrobats with an indicated audience for background. There were two impressionistic portraits of her husband, a verdant Spring...