Word: strolled
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...shoulder, then back to my eyes. Rather than just stand and chat, Al grabbed my arm and walked, ever so slowly, with me in tow along the path he would have taken if I had never even come along. We must have looked like those Italian men who stroll, arm in arm, across the ancient bridges or along the boulevards of any Italian town; very relaxed, yet somehow infused with purpose, even if that purpose is only not to stop walking...
...trail around in long, heavy robes apparently intended to represent both royalty and their guilty burden. But the onlooker simply worries about whether, in their ceaseless circling, one may trip over the other's train. Lady Macbeth's wondrous sleepwalking scene is a long left-to-right stroll on a narrow ledge. The only problem is that Verdi was not interested in a high-wire act-Bellini took care of that very nicely in La Sonnambula-but in the play of Lady Macbeth's bloodstained hands. As Strehler directs her, Lady Macbeth (Verrett) has plenty of trouble...
...Selfridge's or Harrods, the women often swathed in black gowns and veils, the men in Arab robes topped by checked sports jackets. At sunset they parade along Hyde Park. Toward midnight they filter out of Mirabelle, the Hard Rock Cafe or other favored Mayfair restaurants to stroll over to one of their discotheques or gambling clubs...
Down on the streets, there is another kind of new look. Central cities are now paying increasing attention to the pedestrian and his comforts. Spokane, continuing a development started for its Expo '74, is building a system of second-story walkways so that people can stroll among six city blocks without ever going outside; Minneapolis already has a similar skywalk. New York is chipping at its concrete canyons with vest-pocket parks, small oases of greenery and water amid the granite, glass and asphalt. Most U.S. cities have become aware of the humanizing influence of gardens, fountains, plazas...
Then southward, first for a stop in antebellum Charleston, where Twain insists on renting an electric boat to tour the ricefield bogs; and Savannah, Ga., with its quaint cobblestone streets and a gracious populace that calls outsiders "visitors," not "tourists." In New Orleans they stroll through the somewhat scruffy but genteel French Quarter (prostitutes will stare from their wrought-iron balconies). Again, at Twain's insistence, they pause at a Dixieland jazz joint and later dine aboard one of the Mississippi steamboats...