Word: mirror
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...Cyril Salmon, "diffidently, decorously, politely and discreetly, or pungently, provocatively, rudely and even brutally. We may not tell a defamatory lie about anyone." With that charge, the jury in a London court last week retired to consider the libel suit of Pianist Wladziu Valentino Liberace against the London Daily Mirror and its columnist "Cassandra," William Connor (TIME, June 22). Three hours and 22 minutes later, the jurors were back with their verdict, eleven of them wearing the traditional stolid stare. But the twelfth -Mrs. Jean Friend, a grey-haired, 49-year-old widow-could not keep the delicious secret...
...still writhing when Bill calmly dumped a can of oil over her and set her on fire. As he started back to Paris and the apartment of his "official mistress," who was to provide him with an alibi, he could see the flames dancing in his rear-view mirror...
...columnist with the professional disposition of a rabid porcupine, William Connor of London's spicy Daily Mirror (circ. 4,500,000), who writes as Cassandra, watched 1½ TV performances of a U.S. pianist visiting England in 1956, then upquilled. "This deadly, winking, sniggering, snuggling, chromium-plated, scent-impregnated, luminous, quivering, giggling, fruit-flavored, mincing, ice-covered heap of mother-love," fumed Connor of Wladziu Valentino Liberace. "He is the summit of sex-the pinnacle of Masculine, Feminine and Neuter. Everything that He, She or It can ever want...
Shirley has a way of forgetting all about herself, too. "When she saw Imitation of Life" recalls a friend, "she was moved to tears. Hours later, when she got home, she glanced in a mirror by accident and noticed her mascara streaked down her cheeks. She was upset because nobody had bothered to tell her, but most people would have looked in a mirror on purpose long before then...
Enter Brett Ashley. Chances are that Harold Loeb would never have been a character in a Hemingway novel if Duff Twitchell had not riveted his eye in the mirror of the Select Cafe in Paris and said, in her low, exciting voice, "It is the only miracle"-meaning love. Duff took love and drink in immoderation. Depending on the flow of checks from England, she and her upper-Bohemian lover, Pat Swazey, lived on champagne or birdseed. Duff called strangers "darling" and friends "good chaps," had a title by marriage, and as anyone may guess, was the model for Hemingway...