Word: shawled
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...music by herself, dedicated to Colonel Charles Augustus Lindbergh. "L'amour est une oiseau rebelle. . . ." The customers at the Palace sat alert for the "Habanera" of the World's Greatest Carmen, but the high comb would not stay in the thin bobbed hair, and the flaming shawl was strangely dull. True there was a hint of the old gestures, the old fire, but the Palace audience could not remember, saved their applause for Naughton & Gold, funny indeed, for the triple-tonguing of Trumpeter Rolfe and his slapstick jazz players...
...England or the wide campuses of America. This was something that long needed saying, if only to give the lie to the "Constant Reader" whose form letter appears about twice a week in the local press, retelling the pathetic tale of the old lady with the black shawl who had to stand up in the subway all the way to Harvard Square...
...fill with dry salt grains now that life had left it. The long night seemed to have set in; the trifling airs, nibbling, the clammy breaths, fumbling, seemed to have triumphed. The saucepan had rusted and the mat decayed. Toads had nosed their way in. Idly, aimlessly, the swaying shawl swung to and fro. . . . Poppies sowed themselves among the dahlias; the lawn waved with long grass; giant artichokes towered among roses; a fringed carnation flowered among the cabbages; while the gentle tapping of a weed at the window had become, on winters' nights, a drumming from sturdy trees...
...help America when it gets the Eskimo craze, begins to eat seal blubber and wears its flannels twelve months in the year. Just now the Riffa have got us, and promise to keep us until they have exhausted the Spanish Shawl market and the Morroco Leather Trust. To meet the popular demand Lady Fair has been ground out, and now, on the eve of its New York production it is being given the third degree at the Shubert...
...characters have Souls, lofty or eternally damned. For each date set down there are at least two kisses and three burning looks. And even as David Rock carves his love-pledge on his powder horn in the first chapter, so does saintly Anne draw it forth from beneath her shawl in the last chapter, during a conversation between the two that is full of Cur-woodian epithets like "dear," "sweet," "precious," "hallowed." Perdita