Портрет Дориана Грея

           ThewretchedpeasantwhohasjustdiedisbetteroffthanIam. IhavenoterrorofDeath. ItisthecomingofDeaththatterrifiesme. Itsmonstrouswingsseemtowheelintheleadenairaroundme. Goodheavens! don’tyouseeamanmovingbehindthetreesthere,watchingme,waitingforme?" 

           LordHenrylookedinthedirectioninwhichthetremblingglovedhandwaspointing. "Yes,"hesaid,smiling,"Iseethegardenerwaitingforyou. Isupposehewantstoaskyouwhatflowersyouwishtohaveonthetableto-night. Howabsurdlynervousyouare,mydearfellow! Youmustcomeandseemydoctor,whenwegetbacktotown." 

           Dorianheavedasighofreliefashesawthegardenerapproaching. Themantouchedhishat,glancedforamomentatLordHenryinahesitatingmanner,andthenproducedaletter,whichhehandedtohismaster. "HerGracetoldmetowaitforananswer,"hemurmured. 

           Dorianputtheletterintohispocket. "TellherGracethatIamcomingin,"hesaid,coldly. Themanturnedround,andwentrapidlyinthedirectionofthehouse. 

           "Howfondwomenareofdoingdangerousthings! "laughedLordHenry. "ItisoneofthequalitiesinthemthatIadmiremost. Awomanwillflirtwithanybodyintheworldaslongasotherpeoplearelookingon." 

           "Howfondyouareofsayingdangerousthings,Harry! Inthepresentinstanceyouarequiteastray. IliketheDuchessverymuch,butIdon’tloveher." 

           "AndtheDuchesslovesyouverymuch,butshelikesyouless,soyouareexcellentlymatched."