Who, Bob? I just ran into him last week, funnily enough.

He looked at her for a long moment. Slowly, a smile lit in his eyes. Never a shrew. A fighter and a brazen hussy. / Placing a finger beneath her chin, he tilted her face up. And, I'd say, you're the only brazen hussy who blushes. / A brazen hussy. She should be offended. But the smile in his eyes, the touch of his finger moving slowly and feather-light from chin to throat and along the sensitive skin of her neck made it impossible to concentrate on rebuke.

Also know, that it is as possible to see the winde as the aire, their substances being too tenuous to be perceived; unlesse in a storm-winde, whose matter is an exhalation so thick that it darkens the aire:

All fruits, vegetables, and dairy and poultry-yard produce are, in the Australian capitals, dear, and of very easy sale.