'"There grows the wealth of the Valhubert family."
"D'you mean that vegetable? But what is it? I was wondering."
"Vegetable indeed! Have you never been in the country in France before? How strange. These are vineyards."
"No!" said Grace. She had supposed all her life that vineyards were covered with pergolas, such as, in Surrey gardens, support Miss Dorothy Perkins, heavy with bunches of hot-house grapes, black for red wine, white for champagne. Naboth's vineyard, in the imagination of Grace, was Naboth's pergola, complete with crazy paving underfoot.'
from The Blessing by Nancy Mitford (Part I, Chapter Four)
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