The servant turned grey under the natural olive brown of his skin.

He was older, gray of hair, and obviously tired.

It was gray outside instead of dark, he suddenly realized, and remembered that sometime during the night there had been a thunderstorm.

Everything around them was painted the deepest gray possible short of black.

They sat at the table once more, joined by five others, all hidden in the gray and black of the room.

Male like flava, but grey of head very pale, almost white.

It was still gray, of course, but no rain was Falling.

Still a dark gray, but only a scattered handful of stars remained.

Both men were perhaps surprised to see that the gray and white of early daybreak had already come.

The heretic was an old man, gray of beard and frail.