Word: sighingly
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...queer sound in the night woke Mrs. Clarice Singer, and dread drove her to the room of Susan, 3. The child stood on tiptoe in the dark against a closet door, arms thrust stiffly overhead. Moments later she heaved a great sigh. Mrs. Singer screamed for her husband, but both knew that nothing could be done. Susan was dead...
...writes Harold on a sheet of yellow paper, belongs to the night and together they conspire against Boston. They live illicitly, caress each other with streetlamps and shadows and juke box symphonies, the soft sob of loss, the subway shudder and the sigh. Night warms is black limbs by the gutter fires and furnace spit. We should bottle the night, prone and passive, siphon it into leather canteen flasks, take swigs of it while sunning ourselves by the river, savour it after a French loave-lunch, rub it on our arm in lieu of excrement...
Across the U.S., liquor distillers, wholesalers and retailers last week heaved a mighty sigh of relief. After a long, bitter industry fight, the whisky business finally had a new set of excise tax rules. Under the Forand bill, which was last week signed into law by President Eisenhower, distillers no longer must pay the excise tax of $10.50 per gal. on liquor held in Government bond upon withdrawal or automatically after eight years of storage. They now may hold it up to 20 years without paying...
Sussex Gardens. The sigh was echoed in Britain, where Prime Minister Harold Macmillan was weekending in the gardens of his Sussex home. The idea struck him that this might be the time for a personal visit to Athens and Ankara in the hope that one quick, bold move, at a time when both sides were weary and fearful, might finally clear up the bloody mess on Cyprus. For six weeks an apparent softening had been noticeable in the Greek position, a willingness to explore a settlement that would not insist on the future rights of enosis, i.e., the union...
...shiest smiles in the business-seems to ask a question: "Is this applause for me?" Then he remembers: he is really the host. Almost diffidently he pulls up a chair. What Paar calls his "cute little Presbyterian face" beams puckishly. With his voice wavering between a whisper and a sigh, he begins to engage his guests in quiet conversation...