She wore a pale, irridescent dress with a cock feather hat and a tiny crystal heart on a chain.

It is one chance in a novemdecillion. For those who like to be precise, that exact statistic is one chance in 1,606,937,974,174,171,729,761,809,705,564,167,968,221,676,069,604,401,795,301,376.

[…] to their supper-fruits they fell, Nectarine fruits which the compliant boughs Yielded them, side-long as they sat recline On the soft downy bank damasked with flowers […]

The wipeout of this industry could be catastrophic.