His hair was mostly black, with an intersprinkling of premature grey.

Not a typical cidiot, he was self-employed and thinking of relocating here to be closer to her.

Decidedly he was to be a great man, and this was not the moment for letting him go! At the same time there was something impressive in this extraordinary lapse in his eagerness—in his finding it so easy to forget his honors. It was only an intellectual Croesus, the Countess said to herself, who could afford to keep so loose an account.

She grew profuse amounts of zucchini and pumpkins.