Портрет Доріана Грея

           "Ihavegotthroughallthat,"saidDorian,shakinghishead,andsmiling. "Iamperfectlyhappynow. Iknowwhatconscienceis,tobeginwith. Itisnotwhatyoutoldmeitwas. Itisthedivinestthinginus. Don’tsneeratit,Harry,anymore—atleastnotbeforeme. Iwanttobegood. Ican’tbeartheideaofmysoulbeinghideous." 

           "Averycharmingartisticbasisforethics,Dorian! Icongratulateyouonit. Buthowareyougoingtobegin?" 

           "BymarryingSibylVane." 

           "MarryingSibylVane! "criedLordHenry,standingup,andlookingathiminperplexedamazement. "But,mydearDorian——" 

           "Yes,Harry,Iknowwhatyouaregoingtosay. Somethingdreadfulaboutmarriage. Don’tsayit. Don’teversaythingsofthatkindtomeagain. TwodaysagoIaskedSibyltomarryme. Iamnotgoingtobreakmywordtoher. Sheistobemywife!" 

           "Yourwife! Dorian!...Didn’tyougetmyletter? Iwrotetoyouthismorning,andsentthenotedown,bymyownman." 

           "Yourletter? Oh,yes,Iremember. Ihavenotreadityet,Harry. IwasafraidtheremightbesomethinginitthatIwouldn’tlike. Youcutlifetopieceswithyourepigrams." 

           "Youknownothingthen?" 

           "Whatdoyoumean?" 

           LordHenrywalkedacrosstheroom,and,sittingdownbyDorianGray,tookbothhishandsinhisown,andheldthemtightly.