Cer 19

    telling me t you are going to be good,quot; cried Lord e fingers into a red copper boer. quot;You are quite perfect. Pray, dont c;

    Dorian Gray s;No, oo many dreadful t going to do any more. I began my good actions yesterday.quot;

    quot;erday?quot;

    quot;In try, aying at a little inn by myself.quot;

    quot;My dear boy,quot; said Lord ;anybody can be good in try. temptations t is t of toely uncivilized. Civilization is not by any means an easy to attain to. tured, t. Country people unity of being eitagnate.quot;

    quot;Culture and corruption,quot; ec;I  seems terrible to me no togeto alter. I tered.quot;

    quot;You  yet told me ion tle crimson pyramid of seeded straed, se sugar upon them.

    quot;I can tell you,  is not a story I could tell to any one else. I spared somebody. It sounds vain, but you understand iful and   tracted me to  you?  seems! ell, ty  one of our o I loved  imes a erday s me in a little orc tumbling do daermined to leave ;

    quot;I sy of tion must ; interrupted Lord ;But I can finis. t ion.quot;

    quot;nt say ttys  is not broken. Of course, s. But ta, in  and marigold.quot;

    quot;And ; said Lord ;My dear Dorian, you  curiously boyisent noo a rouger or a grinning ploug of  you, and loved you, eaco despise c of vie say t I t renunciation. Even as a beginning, it is poor. Besides,  ty isnt floating at t moment in some starlit mill-pond, er-lilies round ;

    quot;I cant bear t everyt t serious tragedies. I am sorry I told you no care o me. I knoy! As I rode past te face at t let us talk about it any more, and dont try to persuade me t t good action I  little bit of self-sacrifice I  of sin. I  to be better. I am going to be better. tell me somet yourself.  is going on in too t;

    quot;till discussing poor Basils disappearance.quot;

    quot;I s t tired of t by time,quot; said Dorian, pouring  some ly.

    quot;My dear boy, talking about it for six is equal to tal strain of opic every tunate lately,  terious disappearance of an artist. Scotland Yard still insists t ter  train on t Basil never arrived in Paris at all. I suppose in about a fortnigold t  is an odd t every one  San Francisco. It must be a deligy, and possess all ttractions of t ;

    quot; do you to Basil?quot; asked Dorian,  t and  ter so calmly.

    quot;I  test idea. If Basil co  is no business of mine. If   to t  ever terrifies me. I e it.quot;

    quot;; said the younger man wearily.

    quot;Because,quot; said Lord rils t trellis of an open vinaigrette box, quot;one can survive everyt t. Deaty are ts in teentury t one cannot explain a us  play Co me. tely. Poor Victoria! I  ts t s. Pers t. tial part of ones personality.quot;

    Dorian said not rose from table, and passing into t room, sat doo t ray across te and black ivory of ter t in, opped, and looking over at Lord ; ever occur to you t Basil ;

    Lord ;Basil erbury c clever enougo ing. But a man can paint like Velasquez and yet be as dull as possible. Basil erested me once, and t  ion for you and t you  motive of .quot;

    quot;I ; said Dorian e of sadness in ;But dont people say t ;

    quot;O does not seem to me to be at all probable. I kno Basil  t of man to o ty. It ;

    quot;  I ; said tcently after he had spoken.

    quot;I  you  doesnt suit you. All crime is vulgar, just as all vulgarity is crime. It is not in you, Dorian, to commit a murder. I am sorry if I  your vanity by saying so, but I assure you it is true. Crime belongs exclusively to t blame t degree. I s crime o t art is to us, simply a metraordinary sensations.quot;

    quot;A metions? Do you t a man  tell me t.quot;

    quot;O too often,quot; cried Lord ;t is one of t important secrets of life. I s murder is alake. One s one cannot talk about after dinner. But let us pass from poor Basil. I , but I cant. I dare say o t tor  ing over c t ten years ing ;

    Dorian rolled across to stroke t, a large, grey-plumaged bird  and tail, t self upon a bamboo perced fingers touc, it dropped te scurf of crinkled lids over black, glasslike eyes and began to sway backwards and forwards.

    quot;Yes,quot; inued, turning round and taking  of ; quot;ing e gone off. It seemed to me to  somet  an ideal. o be great friends, o be a great artist.   separated you? I suppose s a  bores   rait  t since . Oelling me years ago t you  it doo Selby, and t it  mislaid or stolen on t it back?  a pity! it erpiece. I remember I ed to buy it. I o Basils best period. Since t curious mixture of bad painting and good intentions t alitles a man to be called a representative Britisist. Did you advertise for it? You s;

    quot;I forget,quot; said Dorian. quot;I suppose I did. But I never really liked it. I am sorry I sat for it. teful to me. alk of it? It used to remind me of t, I they run?--

    Like ting of a sorrow,

    A face  a .

    Yes: t is  ;

    Lord ;If a man treats life artistically, ,quot; o an arm-chair.

    Dorian Gray sruck some soft c;Like ting of a sorro; ed, quot;a face  a .quot;

    t ;By t; er a pause, quot; profit a man if ation run?-- ;

    tarted and stared at ;, ;

    quot;My dear fello; said Lord ing ;I asked you because I t you migo give me an ans is all. I  Sunday, and close by tood a little croo some vulgar street-preac t question to  struck me as being ratic. London is very rics of t kind. A  Sunday, an uncoutian in a mackintose faces under a broken roof of dripping umbrellas, and a erical lips--it s e a suggestion. I t of telling t t art  t man . I am afraid,  ood me.quot;

    quot;Dont, errible reality. It can be bougered a can be poisoned, or made perfect. t.quot;

    quot;Do you feel quite sure of t, Dorian?quot;

    quot;Quite sure.quot;

    quot;A must be an illusion. tely certain about are never true. t is tality of fait be so serious.  o do itions of our age? No: ell me, in a lo . I am only ten years older to-nig. You ely extraordinary. You  not in appearance. I . to get back my yout take exercise, get up early, or be respectable. Yout. Its absurd to talk of to  are people muc of me. Life o test radict t on principle. If you ask t erday, t in 1820, ely not te it at Majorca,  spray das t is marvellously romantic.  a blessing it is t t left to us t is not imitative! Dont stop. I  music to-nig seems to me t you are t I am Marsyas listening to you. I  even you knoragedy of old age is not t one is old, but t one is young. I am amazed sometimes at my oy. A an exquisite life you  your palate. Not o you no more t  marred you. You are still t;

    quot;I am not t;

    quot;Yes, you are t t of your life  spoil it by renunciations. At present you are a perfect type. Dont make yourself incomplete. You are quite fla s deceive yourself. Life is not governed by ention. Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slo-up cells in rong. But a cone of colour in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume t you  brings subtle memories , a line from a forgotten poem t you  you o play-- I tell you, Dorian, t it is on t our lives depend. Broes about t somes rangest mont against us bot it  al it is afraid it  you atue, or painted a picture, or produced anytside of yourself! Life . You  yourself to music. Your days are your sonnets.quot;

    Dorian rose up from t;Yes, life e,quot; ;but I am not going to  not say travagant to me. You dont kno me. I t if you did, even you urn from me. You laug laug;

    quot;opped playing, Dorian? Go back and give me turne over again. Look at t great,  ing for you to co t? Let us go to t  end it c es o kno son. ies, and o introduce o you. e delig;

    quot;I ,quot; said Dorian ;But I am tired to-nig go to t is nearly eleven, and I  to go to bed early.quot;

    quot;Do stay. You o-nigouc   before.quot;

    quot;It is because I am going to be good,quot; ;I am a little c;

    quot;You cannot co me, Dorian,quot; said Lord ;You and I ;

    quot;Yet you poisoned me  forgive t.  you  book to any one. It does ;

    quot;My dear boy, you are really beginning to moralize. You  like ted, and t,  all tired. You are mucoo deligo do t. Besides, it is no use. You and I are . Art ion. It annies to act. It is superbly sterile. t t ss o  discuss literature. Come round to-morroo ride at eleven. e migogetake you to luncers to consult you about some tapestries stle ducired of Gladys? I t you s on ones nerves. ell, in any case, be  eleven.quot;

    quot;Must I really come, ;

    quot;Certainly. te lovely no t you.quot;

    quot;Very ; said Dorian. quot;Good nig; As ated for a moment, as if o say. t out.