Word: slouchingly
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...Justice. Standing in an easy, stooped slouch and speaking quickly, Dulles told a crowd that had packed Amsterdam's Concertgebouw hall to its olive-green walls: "The Soviet Communist regime is not a regime of peace, and, indeed, it does not purport to be. It may not, and I hope that it does not, want international war. But, if so, that is a matter of expediency, not of principle ... It rejects the moral premises that alone make possible the permanent organization of peace . . . There is, says Stalin, no such thing as 'eternal justice' . . . Human beings have...
Barred from the consulate, the press had a troubled half hour making sure that it was really the schoolmarm who had jumped. The conservative Sun, no slouch at handling a fast-breaking story, won the race to tell the news. It hit the street with an eight-column headline at 5:06 without at first identifying the woman...
Hollywood could never cast Columnist Joseph Wright Alsop Jr. in its stock role of the slouch-hatted, wisecracking newsman. He does not look the part, and he was not brought up to play it. Instead of the rough-&-tumble school of the police beat, he went to Groton and Harvard, where he wandered around with volumes of Proust and Joyce under his arm and thought politics beneath discussion. His silk shirts and tailored suits are as out of character as his high-pitched "ah there" voice. He exudes a cultivated and imperious...
...final round last week, nobody felt like objecting. Britain's sports pages were full of the Babe. They called her "Tough Babe," used such adjectives as "spectacular" and "phenomenal." They told Britons what most Americans already knew: that the Babe was also no slouch at javelin throwing, hurdling, swimming, shot-putting, baseball, high jumping, tennis and basketball, and that she had won 15 straight U.S. golf tournaments before crossing the Atlantic "for the only major women's golf title I have left to win." The British women's amateur was also the only major British golf title...
...complete the mess by marrying a gaunt Sunday-school teacher. "Lucy Barton," says tactful Biographer Terhune, "was doubtless attractive; but she lacked physical charm." "I am going to be married -don't congratulate me," the bridegroom told a friend. He turned up at church in "an old slouch hat," spoke only once at the wedding breakfast. Offered some blanc mange, he waved it away, muttering "Ugh! Congealed bridesmaid...