2588. And if I do discover its true color, I can’t help
but ask myself, do the lights in the dressing room consist of
fluorescents, or incandescent bulbs? And if they are fluorescents, will
the color of the dress be more blue? And will it be more orange under an
incandescent bulb?
2589. It occurred to me that there might be no way to
avoid the relativity of the color of the dress. Perhaps I could take the
dress outside and look at it in the bright sunlight. In the light of
day I might be able to discover the true color of a thing, and feel
secure in the knowledge that even though the color of the dress in
certain other uncontrollable situations might become confused, at least
there was a place in the bright sunlight where its true reality could be
found.
2590. But then a cloud might pass in front of the sun,
and the color of the dress I had assumed was truly a sort of salmon
pinkish-tan would begin to turn slightly toward an antique rose sort of
color. And later the sun might go down, and the dress become a dark
golden purplish-blue.
2591. Still later, in the middle of the night, a moonless, starless night, the dress would seem to my eyes to be pitch black, so black that it would be indistinguishable from its inky black surroundings.
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