Портрет Доріана Грея

           Shetossedherhead,andrakedthecoinsoffthecounterwithgreedyfingers. Hercompanionwatchedherenviously. 

           "It’snouse,"sighedAdrianSingleton. "Idon’tcaretogoback. Whatdoesitmatter? Iamquitehappyhere." 

           "Youwillwritetomeifyouwantanything,won’tyou? "saidDorian,afterapause. 

           "Perhaps." 

           "Good-night,then." 

           "Good-night,"answeredtheyoungman,passingupthesteps,andwipinghisparchedmouthwithahandkerchief. 

           Dorianwalkedtothedoorwithalookofpaininhisface. Ashedrewthecurtainasideahideouslaughbrokefromthepaintedlipsofthewomanwhohadtakenhismoney. "Theregoesthedevil’sbargain! "shehiccoughed,inahoarsevoice. 

           "Curseyou!"heanswered,"don’tcallmethat." 

           Shesnappedherfingers."PrinceCharmingiswhatyouliketobecalled,ain’tit?"sheyelledafterhim. 

           Thedrowsysailorleapttohisfeetasshespoke,andlookedwildlyround. Thesoundoftheshuttingofthehalldoorfellonhisear. Herushedoutasifinpursuit.