When she glanced down she found a flight of broad stairs, a flow of white marble between walls of grey mist.

The ocean is grey, the sky is grey, the whole grey coastline is shrouded in a grey mist and dripping beneath the remorseless rain.

That whole winter long she had felt as if her sun was all shrouded over with grey mist, and could no longer shine brightly for her.

The hill was shrouded in a grey mist of drizzle.