‘Uncover that picture, and you will see my soul.’
It was the ninth of November, the evening before hi thirty-eighth birthday.
Dorian Gray was walking home from Lord Henry’s house when he saw Basil Hallward.
He felt strangely afraid and tried to pretend that he had not seen him, but Basil
hurried after him. ‘Dorian!’ he called. ‘What extraordinary luck! I’m catching
the midnight train to Paris and I wanted to see you before I left. I’ll be away
from England for six months.’ He put his hand on Dorian’s arm. ‘Look, we’re near
your house. May I come in for a moment? I have something to say to you.’
‘Of course, but won’t you miss your train?’ asked Dorian lazily, as he walked up
the steps to his door. ‘I have plenty of time. It’s only eleven o’clock.’
They went and sat down by the fire. ‘Now, my dear Dorian, I want to speak to you
seriously.’ Basil began. ‘I must tell you that people in London are saying the
most terrible things about you.’ Dorian lit a cigarette and looked bored.
‘I don’t want to know anything about it. It doesn’t interest me.’
‘But it must interest you, Dorian,’ said Basil. ‘Every gentleman is interested
in his good name.
Of course, when I look at you, I know that these stories can’t be true.
A man’s face shows if his life is good or bad. But why does Lord Berwick leave
the room when you enter it? Why does Lord Staveley say that no honest woman is
safe with you?
