Word: plump
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...herself to him. The baron is a madcap giant of a hussar, a Homeric drinker and eater, an impenitent gambler, an indefatigable skirt chaser. Ippolita, to whom purse strings are the only heart strings, chokes as her beans-and-mush menus give way to roast pigs, shank sausage and plump capons. She likes to dress like a ragpicker; the baron makes her buy the latest imported fineries. Ippolita doles out fourth-rate wine to the servants in "a quantity congruous for Christians of base extraction." The baron invites them to lap up casks of vintage Vaiano. When the baron goes...
...accept the finished statue, a reclining nude. Even when Maillol found a sympathetic patron, Count Harry Kessler, art adviser to the German Kaiser, it turned out badly. World War I broke out, and the French angrily concluded that Maillol was pro-German, dismissed his beautiful nudes as so many plump Fräulein...
...majestic beard turned white; his wiry body became stooped. Younger, placid and broad-hipped models came to pose and serve as inspiration. "I am inconsolable," he once said, "not to have seen the figures of all the women of my native province." It was his last favorite model, plump Dina Vierny, who tracked down every work the master did and was largely responsible for assembling the current show. Now in her 40s, she still refers to Maillol as "le patron," vows "he will some day have a museum of his own, even if I have to build it with...
...they found the 39-year-old divorcee dead, her body blotched with 251 bruises. While they questioned Richard, Charlotte Millionaire George King Cutter, 48, drove up and introduced himself as "a friend of the family." Cutter, a real estate developer, admitted that he had spent the previous evening with plump, attractive Mrs. Nycum aboard a converted Post Office bus (complete with bar, bath and bedroom) that he kept parked in an abandoned Army warehouse on the grounds of Charlotte Municipal Airport. Cutter said he had slapped Mrs. Nycum, but insisted that he had not killed her. An autopsy left...
...Presidium in a crucial power struggle. As befitted a low-ranking delegate to the International Atomic Energy Agency in Vienna, Molotov stood at the station in a crowd of Soviet women and children. "We must get together," said Khrushchev, unabashed, as he reached out to shake Molotov's plump hand. Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko, who had been Molotov's underling for years, blinked in the bright sun and smiled a frozen smile. "Nice weather we're having," he said...