Chapter 14

           Thatevening,ateight-thirty,exquisitelydressedandwearingalargebuttonholeofParmaviolets,DorianGraywasusheredintoLadyNarborough’sdrawing-roombybowingservants. Hisforeheadwasthrobbingwithmaddenednerves,andhefeltwildlyexcited,buthismannerashebentoverhishostess’shandwasaseasyandgracefulasever. Perhapsoneneverseemssomuchatone’seaseaswhenonehastoplayapart. CertainlynoonelookingatDorianGraythatnightcouldhavebelievedthathehadpassedthroughatragedyashorribleasanytragedyofourage. Thosefinely-shapedfingerscouldneverhaveclutchedaknifeforsin,northosesmilinglipshavecriedoutonGodandgoodness. Hehimselfcouldnothelpwonderingatthecalmofhisdemeanour, andforamomentfeltkeenlytheterriblepleasureofadoublelife. 

           Itwasasmallparty,gotupratherinahurrybyLadyNarborough, whowasaverycleverwoman,withwhatLordHenryusedtodescribeastheremainsofreallyremarkableugliness. Shehadprovedanexcellentwifetooneofourmosttediousambassadors,andhavingburiedherhusbandproperlyinamarblemausoleum, whichshehadherselfdesigned,andmarriedoffherdaughterstosomerich,ratherelderlymen, shedevotedherselfnowtothepleasuresofFrenchfiction,Frenchcookery,andFrenchespritwhenshecouldgetit. 

           Dorianwasoneofherspecialfavourites,andshealwaystoldhimthatshewasextremelygladshehadnotmethiminearlylife. "Iknow,mydear,Ishouldhavefallenmadlyinlovewithyou,"sheusedtosay,"andthrownmybonnetrightoverthemillsforyoursake. Itismostfortunatethatyouwerenotthoughtofatthetime. 

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