The sky had begun to darken, an unfriendly, iron gray.

天空开始变暗，一种不友好的铁灰色。

Behind a scarred littered table a man with a fierce roach of iron gray hair peered at us over steel spectacles.

在一张伤痕累累、乱七八糟的桌子后面，一个铁灰色头发凶猛的男人正透过钢制眼镜盯着我们。

He was tall and gaunt and wore a pointed beard of iron gray, and his clothes hung on his spare figure as though blown there by a hurricane.

他个子高高的，骨瘦如柴，蓄着一把尖尖的铁灰色胡子，衣服穿在那瘦长的身躯上像是被大风刮到上面似的。

What I was chained to, and how heavily, became intelligible to me, as I heard his hoarse voice, and sat looking up at his furrowed bald head with its iron gray hair at the sides.

当我听到他嘶哑的声音时，我明白了我被拴在什么上，有多重，我坐下来看着他那满是皱纹的光头，两边铁灰色的头发。