Портрет Доріана Грея
Chapter 18
Sincethen,hisworkwasthatcuriousmixtureofbadpaintingandgoodintentionsthatalwaysentitlesamantobecalledarepresentativeBritishartist. Didyouadvertiseforit? Youshould."
"Iforget,"saidDorian. "IsupposeIdid. ButIneverreallylikedit. IamsorryIsatforit. Thememoryofthethingishatefultome. Whydoyoutalkofit? Itusedtoremindmeofthosecuriouslinesinsomeplay—‘Hamlet,’Ithink—howdotheyrun?—
"‘Likethepaintingofasorrow,
Afacewithoutaheart.’
Yes:thatiswhatitwaslike."
LordHenrylaughed. "Ifamantreatslifeartistically,hisbrainishisheart,"heanswered,sinkingintoanarm-chair.
DorianGrayshookhishead,andstrucksomesoftchordsonthepiano. "‘Likethepaintingofasorrow,’"herepeated,"‘afacewithoutaheart.’"
Theeldermanlaybackandlookedathimwithhalf-closedeyes. "Bytheway,Dorian,"hesaid,afterapause,"‘whatdoesitprofitamanifhegainthewholeworldandlose’—howdoesthequotationrun? —‘hisownsoul’?"
ThemusicjarredandDorianGraystarted,andstaredathisfriend. "Whydoyouaskmethat,Harry?"
"Mydearfellow,"saidLordHenry,elevatinghiseyebrowsinsurprise,"IaskedyoubecauseIthoughtyoumightbeabletogivemeananswer.Thatisall.