Word: swanked
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Bald, rumpled Foreign Minister Alberto Guani of Uruguay, en route for a visit to the U.S., paused last week in Rio de Janeiro's swank Copacabana Hotel to give a tip on a new trend in South America foreign policies. Over ham, potato salad and agua mineral he told reporters...
...little gun that had "been in the family for years" ex-Cinemactress Madge Bellamy, 39, curly-haired, wide-eyed star of the silents (Ankles Preferred, Silk Legs, Summer Bachelors), fired three shots at 53-year-old Lumberman A. Stanwood Murphy as he emerged from San Francisco's swank Pacific Union Club. Murphy high-tailed it for cover, untouched, and Madge gave up quietly. To police, who charged her with assault with a deadly weapon, she explained that she had wanted to scare him, that he had ditched her after his divorce and married somebody else. Released under $500 bail...
This year the revolution in foodstuffs has reached Connecticut. Where the Boston Post Road sweeps up over a hill into Greenwich, tablet foods are clacking out of packaging machines in what was once a huge, swank automobile salesroom. There are vestpocket portions of carrots, cabbage and coffee hardly bigger than a book of matches. There are blocks of onions smaller than a shoebox which will cook up to serve a hundred men. Maker of these tablets, the first commercial producer of dehydrated compressed foods in the U.S., is Auto Ordnance Co., manufacturer as well of the famed Thompson submachine...
...Gremlins (who were harrying railroad operations long before the Wright brothers ever flew) were out in force. They clogged switches with snow, short-circuited signal lights, froze steam connecting lines between cars, iced the rails on steep grades, drank all the coffee in dining cars. Morning after morning the swank Twentieth Century Limited slid into Manhattan two to four hours late. On many another train, four to 13 hours late, passengers stood in vestibules, slept in aisles, heaped baggage and bundles to roof tops...
Manhattan's quietly swank Savoy-Plaza Café Lounge was last week doing the biggest business in its history as a nightspot. Its Mondays had begun to look like Saturdays. No opulent floor show was packing in the customers. The attraction was the face and the shyly sultry singing of a milk-chocolate-colored Brooklyn girl, Lena Horne...