Word: wrung
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Clues. At the end of the first six days, heart-wrung Anne Morrow Lindbergh, who expects another child, and her harassed husband had no more evidence as to who had snatched their child than was established in the preliminary examination of their estate...
Perhaps because he is an unpolished writer, Engineer Walter Arnold Rukeyser is bluntly convincing. He wrings the reader's heart by telling how the hearts of himself and wife were wrung when the merciless Gay-pay-oo (Soviet Secret Service) would seize and carry off, perhaps to Death, some Russian engineer with whom Mr. Rukeyser had worked. Relating how he had to point out the honest mistakes of one such Russian engineer to a Soviet technical authority, Engineer Rukeyser writes: "I felt as though I had killed...
Last week Albert Cabell ("Bert") Ritchie, the handsome, smiling, divorced Governor of Maryland, went to New York City. An elevator shot him up to the 32nd floor of the Empire State Building. There Alfred Emanuel Smith and John Jacob Raskob wrung his hand in warm welcome. For more than an hour these three potent Democrats talked campaign politics. Later Governor Ritchie addressed the Academy of Political Science, said nothing important well. Cordial to all newshawks, he gave frequent interviews depicting the certainty of Democratic success in 1932. At a reunion dinner of the War Industries Board, which he had served...
Once, fiercely booed for 15 minutes, Mr. MacDonald left a Seaham platform without speaking while hundreds chorused, "You're a liar!" But more often Mac-Donald "platform magic" worked. The dignified, silver-haired Prime Minister won votes and wrung hearts by solemn sob-stuff. He dragged in his long dead wife: "In the old days, the first days, my wife and I had to pay for the postage of the Labor Party! We bought out of our own pockets-my wife and I-the very notepaper on which Labor's work was done. . . . Labor is in my blood...
...police brought in Oliver and wrung a confession from him, the first of four lynching attempts occurred. Escaping the mob at Ypsilanti, the three were taken to the Ann Arbor jail, where a fresh mob gathered, tore at the prisoners' clothes, clawed their faces, cried for their blood. Reinforced by carloads of men from Ypsilanti, the crowd surged around the insecure jail, shouting: ''Lynch them! Burn them!" The three cowering men were rushed into automobiles and whisked to the court house where Judge George W. Sample was waiting. Said Judge Sample: "I feel like...