Word: strode
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...Nassau County police, summoned thither by the reporter. "Aren't you Mr. Harriman?" he demanded abruptly. "No, I am Mr. Thomas," was the reply. But lying on the window sill was a hat bearing the initials "J. W. H." on the sweatband. Noting this, the Inspector strode from the room, telephoned the Manhattan police...
...Franciscan cowled in black stooped under the lintel and strode into the chamber, followed by a waddling friar and--was it a dog? The Vagabond eyed the Beast fearfully, the hound-like body, the leathery gray hide maculate with patches of glinting hairs, the beak, the swinging pink teats, its ebon Veneficium of Amor between almond eyes. The Beast slunk to the hearth where the Franciscan had established himself comfortably. "Be thou not afraid," the Holy Man intoned softly. "We are of the World Spirit, to comfort such as thou." Further events the Vagabond shall never recall clearly...
Because Geneva hoped and believed that Washington will back up the League, Assemblymen looked askance at Chatter Gibson. Unruffled, he strode to a group of seats just outside the Assembly's pale on which sat assorted U. S. and Russian diplomats, the latter headed by Soviet Minister to Finland Boris Stein. No Foreign Minister of a Great Power was present except France's debonair Mâitre Paul-Boncour. Few Assemblymen even wore frock coats. This was to be a little fellows' day, although Britain, France, Germany and Italy stood ready to back up at last...
Harvard's retiring President Lowell tried to curb young John Haven Emerson last year. "Stop making respirators," said President Lowell in effect. "I will like hell!" roared young Emerson, long, lean son of long, lean Public Health Man Dr. Haven Emerson of Manhattan, and strode out of the presidential mansion. He loaded a respirator on the rear end of his rebuilt Buick, and with his wife went peddling respirators in competition with Harvard's long, lean Professor Philip Drinker. Professor Drinker, through Warren E. Collins Inc., the cautious Boston manufacturers to whom he assigned patents on the respirator...
...before a socialite audience in Boston's little Peabody Playhouse strode tall, slender Francis Grover Cleveland, 29, son of Grover Cleveland, 24th President of the U. S. Cried he in a full tenor: "Heh, heh, me proud beauty! Now I have you in muh powah!" Complete with cutaway, half-inch diamond and curling black mustache, he was impersonating Villain Richard Murgatroyd in a modern burlesque of oldtime melodrama called Gold in the Hills, or the Dead Sister's Secret. The audience approved his performance with hearty hisses. The production was the first by a semiprofessional stock company...