CULCH. It does feel a little inflamed. I wonder if I could get a little--er--violet powder, or something----? PODB. (_with a painful want of sympathy_). Violet powder! Buy a blue veil--a good thick one! CULCH. What sort of impression _do_ you suppose I should get of Venice with a blue veil on? PODB. Can't say--but a pleasanter one than Venice will get of you _without_ it. You don't mean to face the fair Miss Trotter while you're like _that_, do you? CULCH. (_with dignity_). Most certainly I _do_. I am much mistaken in Miss Trotter if she will attach the slightest importance to a mere temporary--er--disfigurement. These swellings never do last long. _Do_ they now? PODB. Oh, not more than a month or so, I dare say, if you can keep from touching them. (_He laughs again._) Excuse me, old chap, but I just got you in a new light. Those mosquitoes have paid you out for that pastille--by Jove, they have! LANDING-STEPS AND ENTRANCE OF THE HOTEL. NINE A.M. CULCH. (_coming out a little self-consciously, and finding_ MR. TROTTER). Ah, good morning! What are your--er--impressions of Venice, Mr. Trotter? MR. TROTTER (_thoughtfully_). Well, I'm considerable struck with it, Sir. There's a purrfect freshness and novelty about Vernis that's amusing to a stranger like myself. We've nothing just like this city out West. No, _Sir_. And how are--(_Becomes aware of_ CULCHARD'S _appearance_.) Say, _you_ don't look like your slumbers had been one unbroken ca'm, either! The mosquitoes hev been powerful active makin' alterations in you. Perseverin' and industrious insects, Sir! Me and my darter have been for a loaf round before breakfast. I dunno if you've seen _her_ yet, she's---- MISS T. (_coming out from behind_). Poppa, they've fixed up our breakf--(_Sees_ CULCHARD, _and turns away, covering her face_). Don't you turn your head in _this_ direction, Mr. Culchard, or I guess I'll expire right away! CULCH. (_obeying, wounded_). I confess I did _not_ think a few mosquito-bites would have quite such an effect upon you! MISS T. You're vurry polite, I'm sure! But I possess a hand-mirror; and, if you cann't bear to look me in the face, you'd better keep away! CULCH. (_takes a hasty glance, and discovers, with a shock, that she is almost as much disfigured as himself_). Oh, I--I wasn't----(_With an effort of politeness._) Er--I hope _you_ haven't been inconvenienced at all? MISS T. Inconvenienced! With haff a dozen healthy mosquitoes springing a surprise party on me all night! I should guess _so_. (_Noticing_ C.'S _face_.) But what in the land have you been about? Well, if that isn't real _tact_ now! I reckoned I'd been dealt a full hand in spots; but now I've seen you, I guess there's a straight flush against me, and I can just throw up. But you don't play Poker, _do_ you? Come along in, Poppa, do. [_She goes in with_ MR. T.