Cars passed her on the road; the people of the quarry town knew her and bowed to her; she was considered the chatelaine of the countryside, as her mother had been long ago.

Mary and John, are you listening?

[W]e ſee that the very aire it ſelfe is never conglaciate nor frozen, nor hardened, conſidering that miſts, fogs and clouds are no congealations, but onely gatherings and thickenings of a moiſt and vapourous aire: for the true aire indeed vvhich hath no vapour at all and is altogether drie, admitteth no ſuch refrigeration as may alter it to that degree and heigth.

They nodded their assent.