THE+PICTURE+OF+DORIAN+GRAY

Basil?'said the younger man. He watched him carefully after he hadspoken.'No,Dorian,you would not murder anyone.Itis ordinary peoplewho murder. It is their way of finding the extraordinary pleasurethat art gives us.''A way of finding the extraordinary pleasure? Do you think thata man who has murdered could do it again.Don't tell me that.''Oh! Anything becomes a pleasure if you do it too often,'criedLord Henry,laughing.'That is one of the most important secrets oflife. I believe, though, that murder is always a mistake. One shouldnever do anything one cannot talk about after dinner. But let uspass from poor Basil. I wish I could believe that he has died someromantic death, but I can't. He probably fell into the Seine offa bus.I can see him now lying on his back in the dirry green water.During the last ten years he had not been painting well''Lord Henry walked across the room and touched the head of astrange grey bird that he kept in the music room. Then he turned toface Dorian.'Yes,' he continued, taking his handkerchief out of his pocket,'his painting seemed to me to have lost something. When you andhe stopped being great friends, he stopped being a great artist.'Whatwas it that separated you? I suppose he bored you. If so, he neverforgave you. By the way, what happened to that wonderful portraithe did of you? I don't think I have ever seen it since he finished it.''I told you years ago that it was stolen.''Oh! I remember. You never got it back? What a shame! It reallywas wonderfirl. I remember I wanted to buy it. I wish I had it now,''I never really liked it,' said Dorian.'I am sorry I sat for it. Thememory of the thing is hateful to me.''How sad you look! Don't be so serious. Play me some music,Dorian. And, as you play, tell me in a low voice why you still lookso young. I am only ten years older than you are, and I have greyhair and yellow skin. You are really wonderful, Dorian.'59