"But I am not satisfied yet." "You must also remember," I continued, "that she has a positively painful association with dark colors, on certain occasions.

They sometimes produce a disagreeable impression on her nerves, through her sense of touch.

She discovered, in that way, that I had a dark gown on, on the day when I first saw her." "And yet, she touches my brother's face, and fails to discover any alteration in it." I met that objection also--to my own satisfaction, though not to his.
"I am far from sure that she might not have made the discovery," I said, "if she had touched him for the first time, since the discoloration of his face.

But she examines him now with a settled impression in her mind, derived from previous experience of what she has felt in touching his skin.

Allow for the modifying influence of that impression on her sense of touch--and remember at the same time, that it is the color and not the texture of the skin that is changed--and his escape from discovery becomes, to my mind, intelligible." He shook his head; he owned he could not dispute my view.