Word: veils
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...World," was a sort of preface. This second volume she did not accomplish. When she had finished My Life, in the spring of 1927, she prepared to spend the remainder of the summer at her Riviera villa. This lady who had danced a thousand times with a veil waving in her hands like a bright tenuous flag, and who had wrapped life closely about her like a brilliant shawl, one summer day tied a red scarf around her throat and stepped into her automobile. As she drove along the roads that sloped down to the sea, a warm slow wind...
...proclaims herself a sensualist and not satisfied with the fast pace of the Romans she attempts to outdistance them. It is very plain that the author has carefully studied all of the vices of ancient Rome and is attempting to shock the reader by revealing them through the veil of satire. Seldom does he impress, amuse, or delight, but he always succeeds in disgusting the reader. Cleopatra in the passionate embrace of Antony, Cleopatra in the passionate embrace of Antony, Cleopatra stroking the "smooth dark, velvety skin" of her black African eunuch, Cinnabar, with her bear foot. Cleopatra drinking herself...
...terms-there must be a few sunny days soon; a few mornings when the fresh spring green of the landscape glistens with sparkling dew-drops; afternoons when the light blue haze hangs over the Yard; nights when a round silver moon peeps over the tree tops through its gossemer veil of clouds, etc etc. In other words, the authority of the CRIMSON'S weather line notwithstanding, it is whispered that optimism reigns among some of the denizens of Plympton Street...
Woman's Day. It was Woman's Day," a day observed throughout the Soviet Union, even in its remotest province, Samarkand. The local women have long since been told by Communist zealots to take off their pirandja (veil) and some of them have long since done so. But last week 600 emancipated women paraded Samarkand in facial nakedness...
...afterglow that he had slain Boris. Rennie's afterglow was somewhat marred by the bath to which she was subjected her first day out of confinement. And the changed attitude of the others, back to their normal indulgence towards a dowdy little bitch, cast a dream-like veil over the whole episode. Not until May, when her kennel rolled with black puppy-shapes, was she sure that she had really heard the Dark Gentleman's lyric blandishments. Author Stern, social chronicler, (The Matriarch, A Deputy Was King, Thunderstorm), now deserves a niche no whit below Christopher Morley...