"There is only one chance for us (lift
up your hair from the left side of your neck)--I have told Mr. Noel
Vanstone to take a private opportunity of looking at you; and I am going
to give the lie direct to that she-devil Lecount by painting out your
moles."
"They can't be painted out," said Magdalen. "No color will stop on
them."
"_My_ color will," remarked Captain Wragge. "I have tried a variety of
professions in my time--the profession of painting among the rest. Did
you ever hear of such a thing as a Black Eye? I lived some months once
in the neighborhood of Drury Lane entirely on Black Eyes. My flesh-color
stood on bruises of all sorts, shades, and sizes, and it will stand, I
promise you, on your moles."
With this assurance, the captain dipped his brush into a little lump of
opaque color which he had mixed in a saucer, and which he had graduated
as nearly as the materials would permit to the color of Magdalen's skin.
After first passing a cambric handkerchief, with some white powder on
it, over the part of her neck on which he designed to operate, he placed
two layers of color on the moles with the tip of the brush. The
process was performed in a few moments, and the moles, as if by magic,
disappeared from view.
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