Word: greys
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...small village of Nowy Dvor, some 20 miles from Warsaw, shirt-sleeved farmers chatted in the main square before the church, glancing toward the grey militia cars parked near by. In the dusty churchyard, women knelt to pray while children in white Communion dresses skipped about. Inside the small, battered church, Bishop Jerzy Modzelewski told an overflowing congregation that the replica of the Black Madonna of Czestochowa, scheduled to arrive that day in Nowy Dvor as part of a summer-long processional to celebrate the millennium of Poland's conversion to Christianity would not come. "The authorities intercepted...
Walking down Athens Street in a grey topcoat, flanked by a worried tutee and an energetic black dog, William Alfred doesn't look like a playwright. The subject is Andrew Marvell. "Read 'The Garden' again," he says to the tutee who scampers off in the direction of Leverett Towers. He walks into his house, patting the dog in the process. "Bye, Sparky," he says closing the door (which, incidentally, he rescued from an old Beacon Hill mansion because it was such a "lovely door"), then winks with his gaminlike eyes and says, "Watch him start barking again." He does...
...Gaulle's plane to its landing. As the general deplaned in khakis and kepi, the band struck up La Marseillaise and a battery of antiaircraft cannon boomed 21 times-so loud and near that bystanders felt the breath of the guns. The honor guard was resplendent in grey, gold and red, and their rifle butts hit the ground with such popping precision that De Gaulle winced involuntarily. "Vive la France!" cried the thousand "workers" assembled to greet De Gaulle as he plunged among them shaking hands...
Esprit at Fidelity means dark blue socks, a button-down shirt, neatly knotted blue-and-gold striped regimental tie, grey slacks, shiny black shoes, navy blazer with brass buttons and a gold F on the breast pocket. Neat, but not too gaudy. Even in the office, as he feeds IBM cards into the computer, the Fidelity man is certainly a credit to de corps. No longer is there suppressed boyhood envy of the white-suited Good Humor man, no longer jealousy of bankers' grey. A fig for Braniff stewardesses in Pucci bloomers. Even those Avis chaps with their blazers...
...been shot on earth, it would hardly have been worth a first glance. Its composition was uninspired and its subject - a rough-surfaced grey rock lying on brownish grey, clumpy soil -was singularly dull. Yet it was a histor ic picture - a color photograph taken on the surface of the moon. The dis tinguished and prolific photographer: Surveyor...