Word: sweater
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Quietly knitting a dark blue sweater for his fiancée-who last week legally changed her name to Wallis Warfield - the Duke of Windsor sat in the Château de Cande last week through the broadcast of his brother's Coronation (see p. 15). Acting as unofficial press representative, the Duke's faithful U. S. friend, Herman Rogers, issued to newshawks genteel snippets of information: legally changing Mrs. Simpson's name had cost $2.50. . . . Mrs. Warfield had put aside Ernest Simpson's engagement ring for a new emerald from the Duke. ... On Coronation night...
Meanwhile another branch of the University hierarchy is combing the woods for the snatch artist who broke into the door before it was fixed. Microscopic work on the picture reveal that both the coat and sweater that are visible were purchased in a Southern city, probably Atlanta, Georgia, and it is claimed that the culprit is already known and can save himself several years if he will give himself up quietly...
Garbed in his habitual gabardine slacks and yellow turtle-neck sweater, the stage and screen star was the true feminine counterpart of the Harvardian's idea of dressing for comfort. Despite constant interruptions from the horde of autograph-seekers and hangers-on around her dressing-room, she shot back alert replies, seemed to enjoy her only exclusive interview during her brief Hub visit...
...Professor Sophus Keith Wintrier of the University of Washington had telephoned her that the Associated Press had telephoned him that the Nobel Foundation had awarded Playwright O'Neill its 1936 literature prize and the newspaper boys were on their way out. Lounging in old pants and sweater at the side of Professor Winther, his good friend and official biographer, Eugene O'Neill was soon telling reporters how it felt to win a Nobel Prize...
Across New York's Floyd Bennett Field at 8 o'clock one morning last week walked a nervous little man wearing a dinner jacket with grey slacks and a tennis sweater. Struggling into a heavy flying suit on top of that, he stepped into a green and orange monoplane, soared away. "Where's that fellow going?" asked a workman. "To London," replied a bystander. Grunted the workman: "The guy must be nuts...