Word: pair
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Dates: during 1960-1960
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...spoke up in the nick of time. The Senate had already favorably concluded its investigation of Lise's "prayer for relief," and passed it on for the Commons' rubber stamp. Her evidence, which varied only in details from the testimony often offered in New York courts: a pair of operatives from the Reliable Detective Bureau had rapped on the door of Room 201 in Montreal's Taft Hotel, surprised Eccles in shorts and one Joanne Laer in a well-mussed bed. Eccles' version was that he and the detectives drove to the hotel together, where...
...light of those precedents, the Kennedy-Johnson marriage did not seem so astonishing after all. Thus, as in most instances of sock-and-swat Democratic brawls, the bright sun of unity shone down on the happy pair as they hopped onto their steamroller and gaily left town for their honeymoon...
...strolled down the aisle to Row G, soon complained to an usherette that another couple had usurped their No. 1 and 2 seats. The unwitting usurpers: Britain's Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip, enjoying an incognito evening out. Apologetically and still unrecognized by the audience, the royal pair moved over. Earlier, Philip was better prepared for a surprise that arose at Reading University, whose vice chancellor. Sir John Wolfenden, awarding him an honorary doctor of science degree, glowingly described the prince in the words of Poet John Dryden: A man so -various, that he seem...
...that the slogan "All the way with L.B.J." should now read "Half the way with L.B.J." Cooped up in a loft. by 12-ft. glassed-in booth that looked as cramped as the cabin of a spaceship, Huntley and Brinkley muffled all organ tones, were obviously so complementary a pair-Brinkley the aperitif, Huntley the cordial-that neither could have done so well alone. They relaxed and let history write itself: while the CBS team hinted at a panic slide away from Kennedy, H. & B. refused to make artificial excitement of what their calculations told them was artificial news...
...Lost World (Irwin Allen; 20th Century-Fox) exhibits Claude Rains in a red fright-wig, and Jill St. John in-just barely-a pair of pink slacks. These wonders notwithstanding, the most intriguing performers, as is only proper in a Good-Lord-Professor-Can-It-Be? film, are several dinosaurs. Their eyes blaze, their mattress-sized tongues flick menacingly, and their lank green hides glisten in squamous grandeur. They thrash about like lovers in a French art film, roar like convention orators and, when they are hungry, give new depth and meaning to scenery chewing. When two of them duel...