Word: queered
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...their own, are not the traditional puppets with which a tired school of reading and writing has been content. They give the impression of three-dimensional figures whose background takes in far more than the few pages of their story; they act and talk unbookishly, with the hard, queer inconsequence of real life...
...Nick's, has awkwardly disappeared just when his secretary-mistress has been murdered. Wynant's lawyer, Wynant's remarried ex-wife both want him found, think Nick is the man for the job. But Nick is having too good a time, knows and dislikes the queer Wynant family too well-until a gunman breaks into his hotel room early one morning to crease him with a bullet. Then he gets grudgingly busy. Before Wynant is found, two more murders are uncovered. More conventional in plot than his earlier books and less slaughterous (Red Harvest had at least...
...Party who heckled Premier Göring into a jittery rage during the trial, looked confident. Judge Bünger read the Supreme Court's verdict slowly. Much of it was a denunciation of what he called "those senseless legends": the legend that Van der Lubbe was the queer tool of queer Nazis who used and helped him to set the fire; the legend that Dr. Paul Joseph Goebbels, now Minister of Propaganda & Public Enlightenment, conceived the idea of firing the Reichstag, blaming Communists for the deed and using it as the excuse for Chancellor Hitler's suppression...
...that in which Mae shows her presents to a friend; you will see what I mean when you hear her say, "It's real jade ... he said," in a tone of trusting naivete which touches the heights. On the other hand, the scenes which attempt to portray some queer form of true love, suddenly burgeoning in the largest of American bosoms, are not so rosy; perhaps they are too much out of character. At any rate, the whole picture is a series of such up and downs and contrasts; as art, it is a flop; as entertainment, it gets there...
...roaming along the bookshelves looking for some ancient tome. As he paced down the gallery a queer little man with a roguish permanent grin came to his side, watching him curiously. Professor Lake was about to ask the stranger if he knew the where-abouts of the needed volume, but before he could say anything the gnomic little man caught him by the arm, and, chuckling a typically library-muted chuckle, pulled him for miles along the gallery. After a long walk in silence they came to a large room, set apart from the rest of the great library, which...