Word: sallow
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...bounced out of his TU-104 jetliner, kissed Hungarian Party Chief Janos Kadar and Premier Ferenc Munnich on both cheeks, and with a wave of a black Homburg. told 4,000 stone-faced Hungarians: "The Soviet Union and the other Socialist countries are your most loyal friends." Replied the sallow, thin-haired Kadar. without a blink at the sepulchral irony of his own words: ''The Hungarian people will never forget that Soviet troops liberated our country...
...election day Typhoon Kit howled across the northern Philippines, flooding villages, blocking roads, making thousands homeless. That night, sallow little President Carlos Garcia. 61, sat in a friend's home outside Manila, listening to the election returns and playing game after game of chess with an aide. When the radio reported that both the Liberals' Jose Yulo and the Progressives' Manuel Manahan were running ahead of him in Manila, Garcia played so badly that the aide won. But as the counting went on, the President's chess got better. By the next afternoon the typhoon that...
Looking a bit pasty and sallow after a 600-mile flight from Cleveland, Russell was sitting at a small, littered table in the half-darkened cocktail bar of the Hotel Commander, drinking beer with a few reporters. It seemed obvious that The Big Man was marking time, waiting. Somewhat nervously, for something explainable important to him: a small dinner party with Professor Samuel H. Beer, chairman of the Government Department...
...rewards of death. He wore the big tipper's air of assurance as he walked into the bright, mirrored, roomy barber shop and ordered a haircut; he closed his eyes contentedly as he felt the clippers on his thick neck. He was completely oblivious of two dark, sallow men who entered with their hats on, after him. Each of the pair wore the sort of dark, metal-rimmed glasses affected by highway cops. Each wore a scarf over his mouth. Each wore a black glove on his right hand, and each black hand gripped a pistol. They pushed...
...elbow of Nikita Khrushchev, as he toured East Germany this summer, appeared a new traveling partner, sallow, stoop-shouldered, scowling. Unlike the previous sidekick, Bulganin, who looked like an amiable riverboat gambler living it up, this saturnine little man seemed to shrink from the speechmaking and the public panoply, the peculiar rites and duties of the proletarian potentates who parade about holding durbars in subject states like 19th century monarchs, while talking over their shoulders to the press like 20th century pols. Yet the world noted, as it was meant to, that wherever the Russians went in East Berlin, Deputy...