Late in the winter, when the snow was grey from coal fires.

Her skin was gray from massive loss of blood.

They were gray with white tips, just like the ones from Margarite.

He was gray from head to foot with dust and grit.

Everything was gray, from the sky to the ground.

He was grey with sleep, his voice hoarse from a day of battle.

In that light, how could he tell if it was faintly gray from the wash?

The north light came grey from the winter sky through the glass that would soon be smashed.

The whole appearance of the room was gray, from walls to decorations.

Because of its recycled content it will be grey from the inside.