March 18, 2022 • 22 mins
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(00:00):
Chapter fifteen. That evening, ateight thirty, exquisitely dressed and wearing a
large button hole of Palmer violets,Dorian Gray was ushered into Lady Narbare's drawing
room by bowing servants. His foreheadwas throbbing with maddened nerves, and he
(00:23):
felt wildly excited. But his manneras he bent over his hostess his hand
was as easy and graceful as ever. Perhaps one never seems so much at
one's ease as when one has toplay a part. Certainly, no one
looking at Dorian Gray that night couldhave believed that he had passed through a
(00:46):
tragedy as horrible as any tragedy ofour age. Those finely shaped fingers could
never have clutched a knife for sin, nor those smiling lips have cried out
on God and goodness. He himselfcould not help wondering at the calm of
(01:07):
his demeanor, and for a momentfelt keenly the terrible pleasure of a double
life. It was a small party, got up rather in a hurry by
Lady Narborough, who was a veryclever woman, with what Lord Henry used
to describe as the remains of reallyremarkable ugliness. She had proved an excellent
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wife to one of our most tediousambassadors, and having buried her husband properly
in a marble mausoleum which she hadherself designed, and married off her daughters
to some rich, rather elderly men, she devoted herself now to the pleasures
of French fiction, French cookery,and French esprit when she could get it.
(02:00):
Dorian was one of her especial favorites, and she always told him that
she was extremely glad she had notmet him in early life. I know,
my dear, I should have fallenmadly in love with you, she
used to say, and thrown mybonnet right over the mills. For your
(02:21):
sake. It is most fortunate thatyou were not thought of at the time.
As it was, our bonnets wereso unbecoming, and the mills were
so occupied and trying to raise thewind, that I never had even a
flirtation with anybody. However, thatwas all Narborou's fault. He was dreadfully
shortsighted, and there is no pleasurein taking in a husband who never sees
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anything. Her guests this evening wererather tedious. The fact was, as
she explained, to Dorian behind avery shabby fan. One of her married
daughters had come up quite suddenly tostay with her, and to make matters
worse, had actually brought her husbandwith her. I think it is most
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unkind of her, my dear,she whispered. Of course I go and
stay with them every summer after Icome from Homburg. But then an old
woman like me must have fresh airsometimes, And besides, I really wake
them up. You don't know whatan existence they lead down there. It
is pure unadulterated country life. Theyget up early because they have so much
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to do, and go to bedearly because they have so little to think
about. There has not been ascandal in the neighborhood since the time of
Queen Elizabeth. And consequently they allfall asleep after dinner. You shan't sit
next either of them. You shallsit by me and amuse me. Dorrian
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murmured a graceful compliment, and lookedround the room. Yes, it was
sat and le a tedious party,two of the people he had never seen
before, and the others consisted ofEarnest Harrowden, one of those middle aged
mediocrits so common in London clubs.Who have no enemies, but are thoroughly
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disliked by their friends. Lady Ruxton, an overdressed woman of forty seven with
a hooked nose, who was alwaystrying to get herself compromised, but was
so peculiarly plain that, to hergreat disappointment, no one would ever believe
anything against her. Missus Arline,a pushing nobody with a delightful lisp and
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Venetian red hair. Lady Alice Chapman, his hostess's daughter, a dowdy,
dull girl with one of those characteristicBritish faces that one seen are never remembered,
and her husband, a red cheeked, white whiskered creature, who,
(05:09):
like so many of his class,was under the impression that inaordinate drue reality
can atone for an entire lack ofideas. He was rather sorry he had
come till. Lady Narborough, lookingat the great ormolu gilt clock that sprawled
in gaudy curves on the mauve drapedmantelshelf exclaimed, how horrid off Lord Henry
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wotton to be so late. Isent round to him this morning on chance,
and he promised faithfully not to disappointme it was some consolation that Harry
was to be there. And whenthe door opened and he heard his slow
musical voice lending charm to some insincereapology, he ceased to feel bored.
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But at dinner he could not eatanything. Plate after plate went away untasted.
Lady Narbora kept scolding him for whatshe called an insult to poor Adolph,
who invented the menu specially for you. And now and then, Lord
Henry looked across at him, wonderingat his silence, and abstracted manner.
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From time to time, the butlerfilled his glass with champagne. He drank
eagerly, and his thirst seemed toincrease. Dorian, said Lord Henry at
last, as the Chaufroix was beinghanded round. What is the matter with
you tonight? You're quite out ofsorts. I believe he is in love,
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cried Lady Narbora, and that heis afraid to tell me for fear
I should be jealous. He isquite right, I certainly should, dear
Lady narbre murmured Dorian, smiling,I have not been in love for a
whole week, not in fact,since Madame de Piroux lived town. How
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you men, can fall in lovewith that woman, exclaimed the old lady.
I really cannot understand it. Itis simply because she remembers you when
you were a little girl, LadyNarborough, said Lord Henry. She is
the one link between us and yourshort frocks. She does not remember my
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short frocks at all, Lord Henry, but I remember her very well at
Vienna thirty years ago, and howdecolete she was then. She is still
decollete, he answered, taking anolive in his long fingers. And when
she is in a very smart gownshe looks like an Edission de Lukes of
a bad French novel. She isreally wonderful and full of surprises. Her
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capacity for family affection is extraordinary.When her third husband died, her hair
turned quite gold. Grief, howcan you harry, cried Dorian. It
is a most romantic explanation, laughedthe hostess. But her third husband,
Lord Henry, you don't mean tosay, for Ole is the fourth Cirtainly,
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Lady Narbor, I don't believe aword of it, well, asked
mister Gray. He is one ofher most intimate friends. Is it true,
mister Gray, she assures me,Sir Lady Narborough said, Dorian.
I asked her whether, like Margueritede Navarre, she had their hearts embalmed
and hung at her girdle. Shetold me she didn't, because none of
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them had had any heart at all. Four husbands upon my word, that
is trou deserle, trou de dash, I tell her, said Dorian.
No, she is audacious enough foranything, my dear, and what is
for ole like I don't know him. The husbands are very beautiful. Women
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were loong to the criminal classes,said Lord Henry. Sipping his wine.
Lady Narborough hit him with her fan. Lord Henry, I am not at
all surprised that the world says thatyou are extremely wicked. But what world
says that? Asked Lord Henry,elevating his eyebrows. It can only be
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the next world. This world andI are on excellent terms. Everybody I
know says you are very wicked,cried the old lady, shaking her head.
Lord Henry looked serious for some moments. It is perfectly monstrous, he
said, at last, the waypeople go about nowadays saying things against one
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behind one's back that are absolutely andentirely true, isn't he incorrigible, cried
Dorian, leaning forward in his chair. I hope, so, said his
hostess, laughing. But really,if you all worship Madame de Farol in
this ridiculous way, I shall haveto marry again so as to be in
the fashion. You will never marryagain, Lady Narborough broke in, Lord
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Henry, you are far too happy. When a woman marries again, it
is because she detested her first husband. When a man marries again, it
is because he adored his first wife. Women try their luck, men risk
theirs. Narborough wasn't perfect, criedthe old lady. If he had been,
you would not have loved him,My dear lady, was the rejoinder.
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Women love us for our defects.If we have enough of them,
they will forgive us everything, evenour intellects. He will never ask me
to dinner again. After saying this, I'm afraid, Lady Narborough, but
it is quite true. Of course, it is true, Lord Henry.
If women did not love you foryour defects, where would you all be.
Not one of you would ever bemarried. You would all be a
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set of unfortunate bachelors. Not,however, that that would alter you much.
Nowadays, all the married men livelike bachelor's, and all the bachelors
like married men. Fander siecler manneredLord Henry fand Globe answered his hostess.
I wish it were fan de Globe, said Dorian with a sigh. Life
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is a great disappointment. Ah mydear, cried Lady Narborough, putting on
her gloves. Don't tell me thatyou have exhausted life. When a man
says that, one knows that lifehas exhausted him. Lord Henry is very
wicked, and I sometimes wish thatI had been. But you were made
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to be good. You look sogood. I must find you a nice
wife, Lord Henry, don't youthink that mister Gray should get married?
I'm always telling him so, LadyNarborough said Lord Henry with a bow.
Well, we must look out fora suitable match for him. I shall
go through Debrett carefully tonight and drawout a list of all the eligible young
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ladies, with their ages, LadyNarborough asked Dorian. Of course, with
their ages slightly edited. But nothingmust be done in a hurry. I
wanted to be what the Morning Postcalls a suitable alliance, and I want
you both to be happy. Whatnonsense. People talk about happy marriages,
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exclaimed Lord Henry. A man canbe happy with any woman as long as
he does not love her. Ah, what a cynic you are, cried
the old lady, pushing back herchair and nodding to Lady Roxton. You
must come and dine with me againsoon. You are really an admirable tonic,
much better than what Sir Andrew prescribesfor me. You must tell me
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what people you would like to meet. Though I wanted to be a delightful
gathering, I like men who havea future and women who have a past,
he answered. What do you thinkthat would make it a petticoat party?
I fear so, she said,laughing as she stood up A thousand
pardons, My dear Lady Ruxton,she added, I didn't see you hadn't
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finished your cigarette. Never mind,Lady Narborille, I smoke a great deal
too much. I'm going to limitmyself for the future. Pray don't,
Lady Ruxton, said, Lord Henry. Moderation is a fatal thing. Enough
is as bad as a meal,more than enough is as good as a
feast. Lady Ruxton glanced at himcuriously. You must come and explain that
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to me some afternoon, Lord Henry. It sounds a fascinating theory, she
murmured as she swept out of theroom. Now mind, you don't stay
too long over your politics and scandal, cried Lady Narborough from the door.
If you do, we are sureto squabble upstairs. The men laughed,
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and mister Chapman got up solemnly fromthe foot of the table and came up
to the top. Dorian Gray changedhis seat and went and sat by Lord
Henry. Mister Chapman began to talkin a loud voice about the situation in
the House of Commons. He gavoredat his adversaries the word doctrinaire, word
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full of terror to the British mindreappeared from time to time between his explosions.
An alliterative prefix served as an ornamentof oratory. He hoisted the union
jack on the pinnacles of thought,the inherited stupidity of the race sound English
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common sense, he jovially termed.It was shown to be the proper bulwark
for society. A smile curved LordHenry's lips, and he turned round and
looked at Dorian. Are you bettermy dear fellow, he asked, he
seemed rather are out of sorts atdinner. I am quite well, Harry,
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I am tired that it all.You were charming last night. The
little duchess is quite devoted to you. She tells me. She is going
down to Selby. She has promisedto come on the twentieth. Is Monmouth
to be there too? Oh,yes, Harry. He bores me dreadfully,
almost as much as he bores her. She is very clever, too
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clever for a woman. She lacksthe indefinable charm of weakness. It is
the feet of clay that make thegold of the image precious. Her feet
are very pretty, but they arenot feet of clay, white porcelain feet,
if you like. They have beenthrough the fire, and what fire
does not destroy, it hardens.She has had experiences. How long has
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she been married, asked Dorian.An eternity, she tells me. I
believe according to the peerage it isten years. But ten years with Monmouth
must have been like eternity with timethrown in. Who else is coming?
Oh, the Willoughby's, Lord Rugbyand his wife, our hostess, Jeoffrey
Cliston, the usual said I've askedLord Grotrian. I like him, said
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Lord Henry. A great many peopledon't, but I find him charming.
He turns for being occasionally somewhat overdressedby being always absolutely over educated. Here's
a very modern type. I don'tknow if you'll be able to come,
Harry. He may have to goto Monte Carlo with his father. Ah,
what a nuisan's people's people are.Try and make him come. By
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the way, Dorian, you ranoff very early last night. You left
before eleven. What did you doafterwards? Did you go straight home?
Dorian glanced at him hurriedly and frowned. No, Harry, he said at
last, I did not get hometill nimbly three. Did you go to
the club, yes, he answered, Then he bit his lip. Oh
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no, I don't in that.I didn't go to the club. I
walked about. I forget what Idid. How inquisitive you are, Hartie.
You always want to know what onehas been doing. I always want
to forget what I have been doing. I came in at half past two,
if you wish to know the exacttime. I had left my latch
key at home, and my servanthad to let me in. If you
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want any corroborative evidence on the subject, you can ask him. Lord Henry
shrugged his shoulders. My dear fellow, as if I cared, let us
go up to the drawing room.No, Sherry, thank you, mister
Chapman. Something has happened to you, Dorian. Tell me what it is.
You are not yourself to night.Don't mind me, Hattie. I'm
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irritable and out of temper. Ishall come around and see you tomorrow or
next day. Make my excuses toLady Navare I shan't go upstairs. I
shall go home. I must gohome, all right, Dorian, I
dare say, I shall see youtomorrow at teatime the Duchess's coming. I
will try to be there, Harry, he said, leaving the room.
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As he drove back to his ownhouse, he was conscious that the sense
of terror he thought he had strangledhad come back to him. Lord Henry's
casual questioning had made him lose hisnerves for the moment, and he wanted
his nerve still. Things that weredangerous had to be destroyed, he winced.
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He hated the idea of even touchingthem, yet it had to be
done. He realized that, andwhen he had locked the door of his
library, he opened the secret pressinto which he had thrust Basil Hallward's coat
and back. A huge fire wasblazing. He piled another log on it.
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The smell of the singing clothes andburning leather was horrible. It took
him three quarters of an hour toconsume everything. At the end he felt
faint and sick, and, havinglit some Algerian pastilles in a pierced copper
brazier, he bathed his hands andforehead with a cool mask scented vinegar.
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Suddenly he started, His eyes grewstrangely bright, and he gnawed nervously at
his underlip. Between two of thewindows stood a large Florentine cabinet, made
out of ebony and inlaid with ivoryand blue lapis. He watched it as
though it were a thing that couldfascinate and make afraid, as though it
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held something that he longed for andyet almost loathed. His breath quickened,
a mad craving came over him.He lit a cigarette and then threw it
away. His eyelids drooped till thelong fringed lashes almost touched his cheek,
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but he still watched the cabinet.At last, he got up from the
sofa on which he had been lying, went over to it, and,
having unlocked it, touched some hiddenspring. A triangular drawer passed slowly out.
His fingers moved instinctively towards it,dipped in and closed on something.
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It was a small Chinese box ofblack and gold dust lacquer, elaborately wrought,
the sides patterned with curved waves,and the silken cords hung with round
crystals and tasseled in plaid metal threads. He opened it. Inside was a
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green paste, waxy in luster,the odor curiously heavy and persistent. He
hesitated for some moments, with astrangely immobile smile upon his face, then
shivering, though the atmosphere of theroom was terribly hot. He drew himself
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up and glanced at the clock.It was twenty minutes to twelve. He
put the box back, shutting thecabinet doors as he did so, and
went into his bedroom. As midnightwas striking bronze blows upon the dusky air.
Dorian Gray, dressed commonly and witha muffler wrapped round his throat,
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crept quietly out of his house inBond Street, he found a hansom with
a good horse. He hailed itand in a low voice, gave the
driver an address. The man shookhis head. It's too far from me,
he muttered. You is a sovereignfor you, said Dorian. You
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shall have another if you drive fast. All right, sir, answered the
man. You'll be there in anhour, And after his fare had got
in, he turned his horse roundand drove rapidly towards the river. End
of chapter fifteen.
Chapter fifteen. That evening, ateight thirty, exquisitely dressed and wearing a
large button hole of Palmer violets,Dorian Gray was ushered into Lady Narbare's drawing
room by bowing servants. His foreheadwas throbbing with maddened nerves, and he
(00:23):
felt wildly excited. But his manneras he bent over his hostess his hand
was as easy and graceful as ever. Perhaps one never seems so much at
one's ease as when one has toplay a part. Certainly, no one
looking at Dorian Gray that night couldhave believed that he had passed through a
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tragedy as horrible as any tragedy ofour age. Those finely shaped fingers could
never have clutched a knife for sin, nor those smiling lips have cried out
on God and goodness. He himselfcould not help wondering at the calm of
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his demeanor, and for a momentfelt keenly the terrible pleasure of a double
life. It was a small party, got up rather in a hurry by
Lady Narborough, who was a veryclever woman, with what Lord Henry used
to describe as the remains of reallyremarkable ugliness. She had proved an excellent
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wife to one of our most tediousambassadors, and having buried her husband properly
in a marble mausoleum which she hadherself designed, and married off her daughters
to some rich, rather elderly men, she devoted herself now to the pleasures
of French fiction, French cookery,and French esprit when she could get it.
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Dorian was one of her especial favorites, and she always told him that
she was extremely glad she had notmet him in early life. I know,
my dear, I should have fallenmadly in love with you, she
used to say, and thrown mybonnet right over the mills. For your
(02:21):
sake. It is most fortunate thatyou were not thought of at the time.
As it was, our bonnets wereso unbecoming, and the mills were
so occupied and trying to raise thewind, that I never had even a
flirtation with anybody. However, thatwas all Narborou's fault. He was dreadfully
shortsighted, and there is no pleasurein taking in a husband who never sees
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anything. Her guests this evening wererather tedious. The fact was, as
she explained, to Dorian behind avery shabby fan. One of her married
daughters had come up quite suddenly tostay with her, and to make matters
worse, had actually brought her husbandwith her. I think it is most
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unkind of her, my dear,she whispered. Of course I go and
stay with them every summer after Icome from Homburg. But then an old
woman like me must have fresh airsometimes, And besides, I really wake
them up. You don't know whatan existence they lead down there. It
is pure unadulterated country life. Theyget up early because they have so much
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to do, and go to bedearly because they have so little to think
about. There has not been ascandal in the neighborhood since the time of
Queen Elizabeth. And consequently they allfall asleep after dinner. You shan't sit
next either of them. You shallsit by me and amuse me. Dorrian
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murmured a graceful compliment, and lookedround the room. Yes, it was
sat and le a tedious party,two of the people he had never seen
before, and the others consisted ofEarnest Harrowden, one of those middle aged
mediocrits so common in London clubs.Who have no enemies, but are thoroughly
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disliked by their friends. Lady Ruxton, an overdressed woman of forty seven with
a hooked nose, who was alwaystrying to get herself compromised, but was
so peculiarly plain that, to hergreat disappointment, no one would ever believe
anything against her. Missus Arline,a pushing nobody with a delightful lisp and
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Venetian red hair. Lady Alice Chapman, his hostess's daughter, a dowdy,
dull girl with one of those characteristicBritish faces that one seen are never remembered,
and her husband, a red cheeked, white whiskered creature, who,
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like so many of his class,was under the impression that inaordinate drue reality
can atone for an entire lack ofideas. He was rather sorry he had
come till. Lady Narborough, lookingat the great ormolu gilt clock that sprawled
in gaudy curves on the mauve drapedmantelshelf exclaimed, how horrid off Lord Henry
(05:34):
wotton to be so late. Isent round to him this morning on chance,
and he promised faithfully not to disappointme it was some consolation that Harry
was to be there. And whenthe door opened and he heard his slow
musical voice lending charm to some insincereapology, he ceased to feel bored.
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But at dinner he could not eatanything. Plate after plate went away untasted.
Lady Narbora kept scolding him for whatshe called an insult to poor Adolph,
who invented the menu specially for you. And now and then, Lord
Henry looked across at him, wonderingat his silence, and abstracted manner.
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From time to time, the butlerfilled his glass with champagne. He drank
eagerly, and his thirst seemed toincrease. Dorian, said Lord Henry at
last, as the Chaufroix was beinghanded round. What is the matter with
you tonight? You're quite out ofsorts. I believe he is in love,
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cried Lady Narbora, and that heis afraid to tell me for fear
I should be jealous. He isquite right, I certainly should, dear
Lady narbre murmured Dorian, smiling,I have not been in love for a
whole week, not in fact,since Madame de Piroux lived town. How
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you men, can fall in lovewith that woman, exclaimed the old lady.
I really cannot understand it. Itis simply because she remembers you when
you were a little girl, LadyNarborough, said Lord Henry. She is
the one link between us and yourshort frocks. She does not remember my
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short frocks at all, Lord Henry, but I remember her very well at
Vienna thirty years ago, and howdecolete she was then. She is still
decollete, he answered, taking anolive in his long fingers. And when
she is in a very smart gownshe looks like an Edission de Lukes of
a bad French novel. She isreally wonderful and full of surprises. Her
(07:51):
capacity for family affection is extraordinary.When her third husband died, her hair
turned quite gold. Grief, howcan you harry, cried Dorian. It
is a most romantic explanation, laughedthe hostess. But her third husband,
Lord Henry, you don't mean tosay, for Ole is the fourth Cirtainly,
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Lady Narbor, I don't believe aword of it, well, asked
mister Gray. He is one ofher most intimate friends. Is it true,
mister Gray, she assures me,Sir Lady Narborough said, Dorian.
I asked her whether, like Margueritede Navarre, she had their hearts embalmed
and hung at her girdle. Shetold me she didn't, because none of
(08:37):
them had had any heart at all. Four husbands upon my word, that
is trou deserle, trou de dash, I tell her, said Dorian.
No, she is audacious enough foranything, my dear, and what is
for ole like I don't know him. The husbands are very beautiful. Women
(08:58):
were loong to the criminal classes,said Lord Henry. Sipping his wine.
Lady Narborough hit him with her fan. Lord Henry, I am not at
all surprised that the world says thatyou are extremely wicked. But what world
says that? Asked Lord Henry,elevating his eyebrows. It can only be
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the next world. This world andI are on excellent terms. Everybody I
know says you are very wicked,cried the old lady, shaking her head.
Lord Henry looked serious for some moments. It is perfectly monstrous, he
said, at last, the waypeople go about nowadays saying things against one
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behind one's back that are absolutely andentirely true, isn't he incorrigible, cried
Dorian, leaning forward in his chair. I hope, so, said his
hostess, laughing. But really,if you all worship Madame de Farol in
this ridiculous way, I shall haveto marry again so as to be in
the fashion. You will never marryagain, Lady Narborough broke in, Lord
(10:05):
Henry, you are far too happy. When a woman marries again, it
is because she detested her first husband. When a man marries again, it
is because he adored his first wife. Women try their luck, men risk
theirs. Narborough wasn't perfect, criedthe old lady. If he had been,
you would not have loved him,My dear lady, was the rejoinder.
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Women love us for our defects.If we have enough of them,
they will forgive us everything, evenour intellects. He will never ask me
to dinner again. After saying this, I'm afraid, Lady Narborough, but
it is quite true. Of course, it is true, Lord Henry.
If women did not love you foryour defects, where would you all be.
Not one of you would ever bemarried. You would all be a
(10:52):
set of unfortunate bachelors. Not,however, that that would alter you much.
Nowadays, all the married men livelike bachelor's, and all the bachelors
like married men. Fander siecler manneredLord Henry fand Globe answered his hostess.
I wish it were fan de Globe, said Dorian with a sigh. Life
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is a great disappointment. Ah mydear, cried Lady Narborough, putting on
her gloves. Don't tell me thatyou have exhausted life. When a man
says that, one knows that lifehas exhausted him. Lord Henry is very
wicked, and I sometimes wish thatI had been. But you were made
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to be good. You look sogood. I must find you a nice
wife, Lord Henry, don't youthink that mister Gray should get married?
I'm always telling him so, LadyNarborough said Lord Henry with a bow.
Well, we must look out fora suitable match for him. I shall
go through Debrett carefully tonight and drawout a list of all the eligible young
(12:00):
ladies, with their ages, LadyNarborough asked Dorian. Of course, with
their ages slightly edited. But nothingmust be done in a hurry. I
wanted to be what the Morning Postcalls a suitable alliance, and I want
you both to be happy. Whatnonsense. People talk about happy marriages,
(12:22):
exclaimed Lord Henry. A man canbe happy with any woman as long as
he does not love her. Ah, what a cynic you are, cried
the old lady, pushing back herchair and nodding to Lady Roxton. You
must come and dine with me againsoon. You are really an admirable tonic,
much better than what Sir Andrew prescribesfor me. You must tell me
(12:46):
what people you would like to meet. Though I wanted to be a delightful
gathering, I like men who havea future and women who have a past,
he answered. What do you thinkthat would make it a petticoat party?
I fear so, she said,laughing as she stood up A thousand
pardons, My dear Lady Ruxton,she added, I didn't see you hadn't
(13:07):
finished your cigarette. Never mind,Lady Narborille, I smoke a great deal
too much. I'm going to limitmyself for the future. Pray don't,
Lady Ruxton, said, Lord Henry. Moderation is a fatal thing. Enough
is as bad as a meal,more than enough is as good as a
feast. Lady Ruxton glanced at himcuriously. You must come and explain that
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to me some afternoon, Lord Henry. It sounds a fascinating theory, she
murmured as she swept out of theroom. Now mind, you don't stay
too long over your politics and scandal, cried Lady Narborough from the door.
If you do, we are sureto squabble upstairs. The men laughed,
(13:54):
and mister Chapman got up solemnly fromthe foot of the table and came up
to the top. Dorian Gray changedhis seat and went and sat by Lord
Henry. Mister Chapman began to talkin a loud voice about the situation in
the House of Commons. He gavoredat his adversaries the word doctrinaire, word
(14:18):
full of terror to the British mindreappeared from time to time between his explosions.
An alliterative prefix served as an ornamentof oratory. He hoisted the union
jack on the pinnacles of thought,the inherited stupidity of the race sound English
(14:41):
common sense, he jovially termed.It was shown to be the proper bulwark
for society. A smile curved LordHenry's lips, and he turned round and
looked at Dorian. Are you bettermy dear fellow, he asked, he
seemed rather are out of sorts atdinner. I am quite well, Harry,
(15:03):
I am tired that it all.You were charming last night. The
little duchess is quite devoted to you. She tells me. She is going
down to Selby. She has promisedto come on the twentieth. Is Monmouth
to be there too? Oh,yes, Harry. He bores me dreadfully,
almost as much as he bores her. She is very clever, too
(15:24):
clever for a woman. She lacksthe indefinable charm of weakness. It is
the feet of clay that make thegold of the image precious. Her feet
are very pretty, but they arenot feet of clay, white porcelain feet,
if you like. They have beenthrough the fire, and what fire
does not destroy, it hardens.She has had experiences. How long has
(15:46):
she been married, asked Dorian.An eternity, she tells me. I
believe according to the peerage it isten years. But ten years with Monmouth
must have been like eternity with timethrown in. Who else is coming?
Oh, the Willoughby's, Lord Rugbyand his wife, our hostess, Jeoffrey
Cliston, the usual said I've askedLord Grotrian. I like him, said
(16:10):
Lord Henry. A great many peopledon't, but I find him charming.
He turns for being occasionally somewhat overdressedby being always absolutely over educated. Here's
a very modern type. I don'tknow if you'll be able to come,
Harry. He may have to goto Monte Carlo with his father. Ah,
what a nuisan's people's people are.Try and make him come. By
(16:36):
the way, Dorian, you ranoff very early last night. You left
before eleven. What did you doafterwards? Did you go straight home?
Dorian glanced at him hurriedly and frowned. No, Harry, he said at
last, I did not get hometill nimbly three. Did you go to
the club, yes, he answered, Then he bit his lip. Oh
(16:59):
no, I don't in that.I didn't go to the club. I
walked about. I forget what Idid. How inquisitive you are, Hartie.
You always want to know what onehas been doing. I always want
to forget what I have been doing. I came in at half past two,
if you wish to know the exacttime. I had left my latch
key at home, and my servanthad to let me in. If you
(17:22):
want any corroborative evidence on the subject, you can ask him. Lord Henry
shrugged his shoulders. My dear fellow, as if I cared, let us
go up to the drawing room.No, Sherry, thank you, mister
Chapman. Something has happened to you, Dorian. Tell me what it is.
You are not yourself to night.Don't mind me, Hattie. I'm
(17:44):
irritable and out of temper. Ishall come around and see you tomorrow or
next day. Make my excuses toLady Navare I shan't go upstairs. I
shall go home. I must gohome, all right, Dorian, I
dare say, I shall see youtomorrow at teatime the Duchess's coming. I
will try to be there, Harry, he said, leaving the room.
(18:07):
As he drove back to his ownhouse, he was conscious that the sense
of terror he thought he had strangledhad come back to him. Lord Henry's
casual questioning had made him lose hisnerves for the moment, and he wanted
his nerve still. Things that weredangerous had to be destroyed, he winced.
(18:30):
He hated the idea of even touchingthem, yet it had to be
done. He realized that, andwhen he had locked the door of his
library, he opened the secret pressinto which he had thrust Basil Hallward's coat
and back. A huge fire wasblazing. He piled another log on it.
(18:55):
The smell of the singing clothes andburning leather was horrible. It took
him three quarters of an hour toconsume everything. At the end he felt
faint and sick, and, havinglit some Algerian pastilles in a pierced copper
brazier, he bathed his hands andforehead with a cool mask scented vinegar.
(19:21):
Suddenly he started, His eyes grewstrangely bright, and he gnawed nervously at
his underlip. Between two of thewindows stood a large Florentine cabinet, made
out of ebony and inlaid with ivoryand blue lapis. He watched it as
though it were a thing that couldfascinate and make afraid, as though it
(19:45):
held something that he longed for andyet almost loathed. His breath quickened,
a mad craving came over him.He lit a cigarette and then threw it
away. His eyelids drooped till thelong fringed lashes almost touched his cheek,
(20:06):
but he still watched the cabinet.At last, he got up from the
sofa on which he had been lying, went over to it, and,
having unlocked it, touched some hiddenspring. A triangular drawer passed slowly out.
His fingers moved instinctively towards it,dipped in and closed on something.
(20:32):
It was a small Chinese box ofblack and gold dust lacquer, elaborately wrought,
the sides patterned with curved waves,and the silken cords hung with round
crystals and tasseled in plaid metal threads. He opened it. Inside was a
(20:53):
green paste, waxy in luster,the odor curiously heavy and persistent. He
hesitated for some moments, with astrangely immobile smile upon his face, then
shivering, though the atmosphere of theroom was terribly hot. He drew himself
(21:17):
up and glanced at the clock.It was twenty minutes to twelve. He
put the box back, shutting thecabinet doors as he did so, and
went into his bedroom. As midnightwas striking bronze blows upon the dusky air.
Dorian Gray, dressed commonly and witha muffler wrapped round his throat,
(21:41):
crept quietly out of his house inBond Street, he found a hansom with
a good horse. He hailed itand in a low voice, gave the
driver an address. The man shookhis head. It's too far from me,
he muttered. You is a sovereignfor you, said Dorian. You
(22:03):
shall have another if you drive fast. All right, sir, answered the
man. You'll be there in anhour, And after his fare had got
in, he turned his horse roundand drove rapidly towards the river. End
of chapter fifteen.
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