waggishly

The Mouser leaned out of his coffin and waved a finger waggishly.

Mr. Musharraf waggishly said he didn't know, and the audience laughed along.

This lower level has been waggishly nicknamed "Martha".

He waggishly pretended to have Jewish blood himself, and to the end of his life was unable to understand anti-Semitism.

It was the head of a dog with his tongue hanging waggishly out and a real dog-laugh in his eyes.

But he dared not do that, Tan Sim thought waggishly.

"Here, give me that," snorted Morgan waggishly, as he snatched the jerkin and slipped it over his head.

"Embryos are like photograph film," said Mr. Foster waggishly, as he pushed open the second door.

(In a council meeting, one city councilman waggishly suggested that they be called 'ho-condos,' instead).

They scoffed at this mad neighbour, looked at each other waggishly and shrugged their shoulders as he passed along the street.

"What was the Roman Coliseum," he asked waggishly, "except the Emperor promoting his brand?"

Spies," Tyrus said waggishly, laying a finger along his nose and looking sly.

'Come in, come in,' he called waggishly.

Since the first of its Thirty-nine Articles describes god as "without body, parts, or passions," he waggishly theorized that the church was atheistic.

With bright red and green wing lights ablink, the machines have the cold precision of android policemen, waggishly festooned.

Mrs. Bünz nodded waggishly.

CLER: Faith, now we are in private, let's wanton it a little, and talk waggishly.

His face was mercurial and lighthearted; a green cap hung waggishly to the side of his head; dark hair hung below, almost to his shoulders.

"No, man," Mr. Schwartzman lied, half waggishly, half modestly, before relenting and shaking hands.

On the plane to Prague, in the summer of 1990, Alden waggishly suggests that he change his name to "Lookout B. Lowe."

Here Mr. Guppy's mother fell into an extraordinary passion of rolling her head and smiling waggishly at anybody who would look at her.

Ms. O'Donnell looked at the camera and said waggishly, "And you all thought I was going to have problems with Elisabeth."

Having filled both of these with moss, the artist waggishly incorporates them into the bodies of the couple who stand dead center, flanked by boys wearing white tuxedos.

This time it scarcely helps that he waggishly reverses the label of the play, entitling it "What You Will, or Twelfth Night."