Word: swollenness
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Seek but the neighbor column for effective wrath. There is vengeance, not merely wreaked but wrought. And, as one observes the accused patrolman and discerns how he writhes his swollen eyeballs to watch both his civilian accuser and the police lieutenant, how gaily his hand trembles as the lieutenant bends to record "assault" upon the ledger, how he whips out his pistol and spures the flame, one cannot but admire the felicitous workmanship, polished, final...
...have met together on this mournful occasion to perform the sad offices over one whose long and honored life was put an end to in a sudden and violent manner. Last year at this very time, in this very place, our poor friend's round, jovial appearance, (Slightly swollen perhaps) and the elasticity of his movements, gave promise of many more years to be added to a long life, which even then eclipsed the "Oldest graduates...
...tale of this magnificent interment was slowly accomplished last week by Howard Carter and colleagues in the Valley of the Tombs of the Kings at Luxor. After three years of laborious archeology, the diggers opened the royal coffin for the first time. Greatest secrecy attended the event, the pride-swollen, dog-in-the-manger Egyptian officials having exacted a stipulation that no news was to be telegraphed to the archeologically-minded world except the "official communiques" issued to the Egyptian press, which is glumly uninterested in the proceedings...
...Robert Andrews Millikan of the California Institute of Technology told the Academy about a new ray which he had discovered-a ray which begins in eternity. Born beyond space, in some dim interstellar vestibule behind the gates of the discoverable universe, out of a womb still swollen with gas, perhaps with litters of uncreated stars, the Millikan Ray stabs earthward, traversing aerial shambles strewn with the debris of mutating solar systems, planes where (according to schoolboy definition) parallel lines may meet, and voids in which time, unhinged, spins like a tiny weathervane in an everlasting whirlwind. What bred...
...rustles. The whisper of memories, ludicrous, pathetic, stirs to the swish of the old woman's skirt along the empty hall. ... A shaggy little man contorted over the piano, begging his wife to walk up and down the room because he "so loves the rustle of silk. ..." A swollen little man, throned among his friends, shouting: "Go away. Go to the kitchen. That is the place for women. You are talking rubbish when you are talking music. ..." The old woman sits down, begins to tap the floor with her long foot, thinking of Siegfried Wagner, sapless shoot...