Word: sniggering
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...breath as Dostoevsky? Only posterity can answer. But with these three contemporaries, at any rate, Greene can hold up his head. He is as accomplished a craftsman as they, and without the mannerisms with which the two Americans have begun to burlesque their own styles. He has neither the snigger nor the snobbery that are Waugh's trademarks. But when Greene is compared with Dostoevsky, the great shocker of the 19th Century, all his books together would not match one Brothers Karamazov. That the comparison should even come to mind, however, suggests its inevitability. Graham Greene, like Dostoevsky...
...crown as queen of fashion, though in recent years others have tried to knock it off. But no one ever challenged Parisian dressmakers' sovereignty over Parisians themselves-until last week. At the Printemps department store, a sort of French Macy's, Parisian women who used to snigger at British "tow sack" styles were causing a mild riot, buying English dresses almost as fast as they could be shipped in, despite a 52% French duty. The wool dresses were ordinary, low-priced utility numbers that could be bought off the peg in modest shops in Birmingham or Liverpool...
...Mugs are the Spivs-also called wide boys, smart guys, hooligans, louts or racketeers. The Mugs are the people who are some use in the world: the people who do something worthwhile for others instead of just grabbing for themselves all the time. Of course the Spivs snigger at that. They use the word Mug as an insult. 'Aren't they mugs?' they say about people who believe in living for something bigger than themselves...
...first days of Overlord, the members of the sth crash ashore in France, and death begins its steady tithing. Corporal Shuttleworth dies with a snigger: "The cow, she'll get my pension." Major Maddison, leading a rash reconnaissance into disastrous ambush, is shot by one of his own infuriated men. Colonel Pothecary's turn comes too. "[He] rose to his feet . . . ignoring the bullets that squealed around him . . . They saw him stoop, pick a white flower from a hedgerow and fasten it, without haste, in his lapel. Everywhere in the meadow men rose and moved forward with...
...Snigger from Mother. About an hour before the mutes arrived, Mother's will was read. But Mother, "with her fondness for underdone beef and breezy unpleasantness," was to have the last word. Edna was to inherit on one condition: she must be earning ?5 a week within a month of the funeral. In her whole life, Edna had never earned anything but a snigger from Mother. But as the family smiled, Edna felt a quiet pleasure in her new-found sense of freedom...