In Our Mutual Friend, Charles Dickens described a day in London under a dark, heavy fog.
“Animate London, with smarting eyes and irritated lungs, was blinking, wheezing and choking; inanimate London was a sooty spectre, divided in purpose between being visible and invisible, and so being wholly neither.” The sun “was for a few moments dimly indicated through circling eddies of fog”, wrote Dickens in what would be his last completed novel before his death in 1870.
