Word: scent
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Rope's End. A malevolent scent pervades the theatre wherein this play is exhibited. Perhaps it really exists. More likely it is imaginary, for the audience observes such diseased events as render the senses unreliable. The play and its players have chilled London for several months with their tale of two Oxford undergraduates (Sebastian Shaw and Ivan Brandt) who divert themselves by strangling a happy classmate and serving dinner on the carven chest which contains his corpse. Among their guests are the father and aunt of the deceased. Also present is Rupert Cadell (Ernest Milton), a cynical, orchidaceous poet...
There was an evening in Paris in the '70s when the Prince of Wales, later Edward VII, went backstage at the Varietes. He was led through a gloomy cavern of stained canvas, ropes, flaring lamps. The air was pungent, draughty, filled with the cloying scent of women doused with violent perfumes. The blond prince entered the dressing room of the leading lady, a famed courtesan. She greeted him with coy, voluptuous respect, in tantalizing deshabille. The little dressing room was filled with starchy gentlemen, shouting amid the gay popping of corks. To one side stood a myopic, corpulent, bearded figure...
People who like to sniff the famed perfumes of FrançoisCoty will be glad to know that the paper of which he makes a hobby, L'Ami du Peuple, exposed the diabolic "Great Catherine." She had incautiously attacked in La, Gazette certain political schemes of Scent Tycoon Coty, and he fought back by putting smart reporters on her shady fiscal trail, exposed her. Amid the grand sensation of last week another purveyor of expensive liquids, Cognac Tycoon Jean Hennessy, was dragged into the mess. He has only recently been named Minister of Agriculture, and jealous enemies were quick...
...sixty years the Republican Party kept a politically solid North by creating and maintaining a bitter sectional feeling," he said, "but disintegration has come, and like a pack of timber wolves, smelling for the scent of fresh preserves, the leaders, orators and propagandists of the Republican Party are moving into the Southland...
...world press was just on the scent of the Anglo-French negotiations by Sir Austen himself, when he committed the crowning blunder of formally alluding to them in an indirect, tantalizing manner before the House of Commons. These indefensibly premature remarks, amounting to an open boast that he had done something clever in secret which he was not yet prepared to reveal, placed upon Sir Austen Chamberlain personally an imputation of sheer obtuseness which his political enemies are now loudly tooting up and down England, in view of the approaching General Election...