Word Finder - dean

definition

A senior official in a college or university, who may be in charge of a division or faculty (for example, the dean of science) or have some other advisory or disciplinary function (for example, the dean of students).

definition

A dignitary or presiding officer in certain church bodies, especially an ecclesiastical dignitary, subordinate to a bishop, in charge of a chapter of canons.

definition

The senior member of some group of people.

definition

To serve as a dean.

definition

To send (a student) to see the dean of a university.

Dean took a deep breath and continued.

Mr. Hutton introduced me to many of his literary friends, greatest of whom are Mr. William Dean Howells and Mark Twain.

The Dean took the rabbit and went out of the house.

She bore a look of defeated resignation as Dean and his wife joined her.

Dean just rolled his eyes.

Dean certainly hoped so—at least the clean part.

Dean could picture the messing around.

One morning there was a loud knock at Dean Swift's door.

The ten-year-old girl had resided at Bird Song with David Dean, his wife Cynthia, and Dean's seventy-seven-year-old stepfather, Fred O'Connor, for the past six months.

David and Cynthia Dean had experienced little success in trying to secure a more formal arrangement for long term custody of Martha, managing only undocumented assignment as temporary foster parents.

Dean asked to break the silence.

Dean continued to stare at her, waiting for further explanation.

Dean went to cat and girl and gave them both a long hug.

Dean considered his poking options as he used half a cake of soap to scrub away the stink of the mine.

It was Cynthia who volunteered for the nasty duty, turning down Dean's offer to join her.

The Dean's ages—both forty—and the financial limitations of their new business would make obtaining court approval difficult.

The Dean's private quarters, a sitting room-office combination and bedroom, were located in the rear.

Dean took a deep breath and looked at Cynthia who simply shook her head in wonderment.

Dean took a pencil and paper from the night stand and handed it to her.

Dean crossed to the bureau, picked up his hairbrush.

Fred O'Connor, dressed to the nines in a dapper suit, pink shirt, bow tie and sporting a boutonniere, asked Dean if his iron was broken when he took one look at his stepson's new but wrinkled slacks.

Dean paid no mind that the old man wasn't in the know about the latest Hollywood styles and so informed him.

Dean didn't even offer a quip about Fred's tightness with a buck and his moth-eaten purse as the old man called over a waitress to do the duties.

Dean was hoping to at least finish his salsa before having to stop Fred from dashing up the mountain to single-handedly solve the caper.

Dean held his comment.

Fred ignored Dean and reached in his coat pocket and withdrew a letter, handing it to Cynthia.

She read it with Dean nosed over her shoulder.

To Dean's experienced ears, it didn't sound like a joke.

Dean held his tongue.

Something told Dean it wasn't the time for poking fun.

That takes guts," Dean said, then added with a smile, "So goodie little Cynthia used to get her bum-bum paddled, huh?"

Dean held his wife closely, expecting more tears, but they didn't come.

Dean stretched and extinguished the bedside lamp but neither slept.

Martha eventually slipped into a troubled sleep when Cynthia, with Dean by his side, again convinced the child they believed her, and promised to see the young girl's discovery reach daylight.

When Saturday's daylight arrived to David Dean's exhausted eyes, the time had slipped past his usual rising hour and voices and footsteps rattled the old timbers of Bird Song.

Cynthia hibernated to some serious tears while Dean sleepwalked through the daily chores, helped by Maria.

Dean sat in the corner, trying to read up on Colorado law as it pertained to the duties of sheriff, but was drawn by politeness and the darkened room to view the exhibit.

Dean was no expert, but he could tell his guest was a first-class photographer.

Dean was sorry Cynthia was missing the presentation.

Birds of a feather, Dean thought.

David Dean, without a remote control, had difficulty with the TV and these two old fogies were out surfing the net like a couple of Silicon Valley youngsters.

Dean left the group for the kitchen and found Paulette Dawkins had beaten him there.

Dean took a seat and joined her, part politeness, part to guard the remaining slice.

When Dean didn't respond—principally because he had no idea what this woman was talking about—she continued.

Dean's continued silence prompted her to explain.

Dean hadn't opened his mouth.

Westlake's eyes met Dean's in knowing sympathy.

Dean telephoned the sheriff's office, crossing his fingers that the redheaded deputy Lady Larkin was out bagging the ten most wanted speeders.

Pumpkin Green returned while Dean was killing the few minutes before he left.

Dean was enlisted as part of the convoy to the popular spot.