«Портрет Дориана Грея / The Picture of Dorian Gray» kitabından alıntılar, sayfa 4

too frightened to call.” Lord Henry looked at him. Yes, he was certainly wonderfully handsome, with his curved red lips, honest blue eyes and gold hair. “Oh, don’t worry about my aunt. You are one of her favourite people. And you are too charming to waste time working for poor people.” Lord Henry sat down on the sofa and opened his cigarette box. The painter was busy mixing colours and getting his brushes ready. Suddenly, he looked at Lord Henry and said, “Harry, I want to finish this picture today. Would you think it very rude of me if I asked you to go away?” Lord Henry smiled, and looked at Dorian Gray. “Shall I go, Mr. Gray?” he asked. “Oh, please don’t, Lord Henry. I see that Basil is in one of his difficult moods, and I hate it when he is difficult. And I want you to tell me why I should not help the poor people.” “That would be very boring, Mr. Gray. But I certainly will not run away if you do not want me to. You don’t really mind, Basil, do you? You have often told me that you liked your sitters to have some one to chat to.” Hallward bit his lip. “If Dorian wishes it, of course you must stay.” Lord Henry took up his hat and gloves. “No, I am afraid I must go. Good-bye, Mr. Gray. Come and see me some afternoon in Curzon Street.[16] I am nearly always at home at five o’clock. Write to me when you are coming. I should be sorry to miss you.”

She had suffered more than he had.

He liked what he had seen of Lord Henry.

certainly will not run away if you do not want me to.

Just then a carriage drove by.

There is something of a child about her.

“You are not listening to a word I am saying, Jim,” cried Sibyl, “and I am making the most delightful plans for your future. Do say something. What’s bothering you?”

What was he to say of that? It held the secret of his life, and told his story. It had

y as a person in a play.[39] She knows nothing of life. She lives with her mother. Sibyl is the only thing I care about.” “That is the reason, I suppose, that you never have dinner with me now. I thought

They got up and walked towards the house together. “You are glad you have met me, Mr. Gray,” said Lord Henry, looking at him. “Yes, I am glad now. I wonder whether I will always be glad.” “Always! That is a terrible word. Women are so fond of using it.” After about a quarter of an hour Hallward stopped painting. He stood back and looked at the portrait for a few moments. Then he bent down and signed his name in red paint on the bottom left-hand corner. “It is finished,” he cried. “And you have sat splendidly to-day. I am awfully obliged to you.” Lord Henry came over and examined the picture. It was certainly a wonderful work of art. “My dear man,” he said. “It is the best portrait of our time. Mr. Gray, come over and look at yourself.” Dorian walked across to look at the painting. When he saw it his cheeks went red with pleasure. He felt that he recognized his own beauty for the first time. But then he remembered what Lord Henry had said. His beauty would only be there for a few years. One day he would be old and ugly. “Don’t you like it?” cried Hallward, not understanding why the boy was silent. “Of course he likes it,” said Lord Henry. “Who wouldn’t like it? It is one of the greatest paintings in modern art. I will give you anything you like to ask for it. I must have it.” “It is not my property, Harry.”