Портрет Доріана Грея

           AlanCampbellhadshothimselfonenightinhislaboratory,buthadnotrevealedthesecretthathehadbeenforcedtoknow. Theexcitement,suchasitwas,overBasilHallward’sdisappearancewouldsoonpassaway. Itwasalreadywaning. Hewasperfectlysafethere. Nor,indeed,wasitthedeathofBasilHallwardthatweighedmostuponhismind. Itwasthelivingdeathofhisownsoulthattroubledhim. Basilhadpaintedtheportraitthathadmarredhislife. Hecouldnotforgivehimthat. Itwastheportraitthathaddoneeverything. Basilhadsaidthingstohimthatwereunbearable,andthathehadyetbornewithpatience. Themurderhadbeensimplythemadnessofamoment. AsforAlanCampbell,hissuicidehadbeenhisownact. Hehadchosentodoit. Itwasnothingtohim. 

           Anewlife! Thatwaswhathewanted. Thatwaswhathewaswaitingfor. Surelyhehadbegunitalready. Hehadsparedoneinnocentthing,atanyrate. Hewouldneveragaintemptinnocence. Hewouldbegood. 

           AshethoughtofHettyMerton,hebegantowonderiftheportraitinthelockedroomhadchanged. Surelyitwasnotstillsohorribleasithadbeen? Perhapsifhislifebecamepure,hewouldbeabletoexpeleverysignofevilpassionfromtheface. Perhapsthesignsofevilhadalreadygoneaway. Hewouldgoandlook. 

           Hetookthelampfromthetableandcreptupstairs. Asheunbarredthedoorasmileofjoyflittedacrosshisstrangelyyoung-lookingfaceandlingeredforamomentabouthislips. Yes,hewouldbegood,andthehideousthingthathehadhiddenawaywouldnolongerbeaterrortohim. Hefeltasiftheloadhadbeenliftedfromhimalready.