John Profumo
John Dennis Profumo (born 1915) was the British Conservative cabinet minister whose indiscretions effectively brought down the government in 1963. Profumo was educated at Harrow and Magdalen College, Oxford, and went into parliament in 1940. He married the actress, Valerie Hobson. In 1960, he was appointed Secretary of State for War (a now obsolete title) under Harold Macmillan, but became embroiled in a relationship with Christine Keeler, a showgirl who was simultaneously involved with a Russian KGB official. Although there was no suspicion of his having passed on any state secrets, Profumo was forced to resign when the details of the affair were discovered. He retired from public life, becoming a charity worker, and was awarded the CBE in 1975. His son is the journalist and novelist, David Profumo[?].See also:
sciences, and the arts,--what of them?
[If I live I will make answer to those points, and in detail; and
from the Zubova into Khamovnitchesky Lane, I saw some black.html">black spots on
in one place. I should not have paid any attention to this, if the
in the direction of the black spots, -
"Vasily! why don't you bring her in?"
"She won't come!" answered a voice, and then the spot moved towards
station-house; and she is hanging back, she won't walk." A house-
and he was pushing her from behind. All of us, I and the porter.html">porter and
over her dress. In the darkness I could make out only her brown
stature, as is often the case with the prematurely born.html">born, with small
it? I'll give it to you!" shouted the policeman. He was evidently
again halted.
The little old porter, a good-natured fellow (I know him), tugged at
as though in anger. She staggered, and began to talk in a discordant
whining.
"Come now, you're shoving again. I'll get there some time!"
She stopped and then went on. I followed them.
"You'll freeze," said the porters
"The likes of us don't freeze: I'm hot."
She tried to jest, but her words sounded like scolding. She halted
leaned against, almost hung over, the fence.html">fence, and began to fumble for
they shouted at her, but she muttered something and did something.
match. I paused behind her; I was ashamed to pass her, and I was
forward. Her shoulder was lying against the fence, and against the
looked in her face.html">face. She was really a person prematurely born; but,
years. A dirty hue of face; small, dull, tipsy eyes; a button-like
.
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