The old man was peering at him sharply from under the grey protruding brows.
She was a widow, and had loved her husband, and her sky was still tinged with grey.
For half an hour I stood there in the grey November rain surrounded by a jeering mob.
It will be seen that our grey skies and mean-looking dwellings have compensations.
It was shaded by dark chestnut hair, just silvered ...