Портрет Доріана Грея

           "No:IamgoingtobeoutofEnglandforsixmonths. IintendtotakeastudioinParis,andshutmyselfuptillIhavefinishedagreatpictureIhaveinmyhead. However,itwasn’taboutmyselfIwantedtotalk. Hereweareatyourdoor. Letmecomeinforamoment.Ihavesomethingtosaytoyou." 

           "Ishallbecharmed. Butwon’tyoumissyourtrain? "saidDorianGray,languidly,ashepassedupthestepsandopenedthedoorwithhislatch-key. 

           Thelamp-lightstruggledoutthroughthefog,andHallwardlookedathiswatch. "Ihaveheapsoftime,"heanswered. "Thetraindoesn’tgotilltwelve-fifteen,anditisonlyjusteleven. Infact,Iwasonmywaytotheclubtolookforyou,whenImetyou. Yousee,Ishan’thaveanydelayaboutluggage,asIhavesentonmyheavythings. AllIhavewithmeisinthisbag,andIcaneasilygettoVictoriaintwentyminutes." 

           Dorianlookedathimandsmiled. "Whatawayforafashionablepaintertotravel! AGladstonebag,andanulster! Comein,orthefogwillgetintothehouse. Andmindyoudon’ttalkaboutanythingserious. Nothingisseriousnowadays. Atleastnothingshouldbe." 

           Hallwardshookhisheadasheentered,andfollowedDorianintothelibrary. Therewasabrightwoodfireblazinginthelargeopenhearth. Thelampswerelit,andanopenDutchsilverspirit-casestood,withsomesiphonsofsoda-waterandlargecut-glasstumblers,onalittlemarqueterietable. 

           "Youseeyourservantmademequiteathome,Dorian. HegavemeeverythingIwanted,includingyourbestgold-tippedcigarettes. Heisamosthospitablecreature. IlikehimmuchbetterthantheFrenchmanyouusedtohave. WhathasbecomeoftheFrenchman,bythebye?"