Портрет Дориана Грея
Preface
"Notatall,"answeredLordHenry,"notatall,mydearBasil. YouseemtoforgetthatIammarried,andtheonecharmofmarriageisthatitmakesalifeofdeceptionabsolutelynecessaryforbothparties. Ineverknowwheremywifeis,andmywifeneverknowswhatIamdoing. Whenwemeet—wedomeetoccasionally,whenwedineouttogether,orgodowntotheDuke’s—wetelleachotherthemostabsurdstorieswiththemostseriousfaces. Mywifeisverygoodatit—muchbetter,infact,thanIam. Shenevergetsconfusedoverherdates,andIalwaysdo. Butwhenshedoesfindmeout,shemakesnorowatall. Isometimeswishshewould;butshemerelylaughsatme."
"Ihatethewayyoutalkaboutyourmarriedlife,Harry,"saidBasilHallward,strollingtowardsthedoorthatledintothegarden. "Ibelievethatyouarereallyaverygoodhusband, butthatyouarethoroughlyashamedofyourownvirtues. Youareanextraordinaryfellow. Youneversayamoralthing,andyouneverdoawrongthing. Yourcynicismissimplyapose."
"Beingnaturalissimplyapose,andthemostirritatingposeIknow,"criedLordHenry,laughing; andthetwoyoungmenwentoutintothegardentogether,andensconcedthemselvesonalongbambooseatthatstoodintheshadeofatalllaurelbush. Thesunlightslippedoverthepolishedleaves. Inthegrass,whitedaisiesweretremulous.
Afterapause,LordHenrypulledouthiswatch. "IamafraidImustbegoing,Basil,"hemurmured,"andbeforeIgo,IinsistonyouransweringaquestionIputtoyousometimeago."
"Whatisthat?"saidthepainter,keepinghiseyesfixedontheground.