Cer 20
It . As rolled te, t;t is Dorian Gray." o be , or stared at, or talked about. ired of tle village ely no one kneold to love old ty ston dresses and s! S s .
ing up for o bed, and to t Lord o him.
as it really true t one could never c a ained purity of e boy. arnision and given o o oterrible joy in being so; and t of t and t full of promise t to s all irretrievable? as there no hope for him?
A a monstrous moment of pride and passion trait sernal youto t. Better for eac its sure s penalty along . tion in punis. Not "Five us our sins" but "Smite us for our iniquities" so a most just God.
t Lord o anding on table, and te-limbed Cupids laug as of old. ook it up, as nig al picture, and ear-dimmed eyes looked into its poliserribly loved ten to ter, ending rous ;te ory." to ed to y, and flinging t into silver splinters be y and t for t ain. y o a mask, a mockery. best? A green, an uime, a time of ss. s livery? Youth had spoiled him.
It ter not to t. . It o t in ory, but revealed t t o k, suc t troubled ed trait t five . It rait t o borne ie. As for Alan Campbell, . o do it. It o him.
A ne any rate. empt innoce. he would be good.
As of ty Merton, o rait in t still so o expel every sign of evil passion from the signs of evil had already gone away. he would go and look.
ook table and crept upstairs. As ted acrely young-looking fad lingered for a moment about error to as if ted from him already.
in quietly, log tom, and dragged trait. A cry of pain and indignation broke from iill loat de spotted ter, and more like blood nerembled. been merely vanity t ion, as Lord ed, passion to act a part t sometimes makes us do tain larger t seemed to like a ed feet, as t mean t o fess? to give to deat t trous. Besides, even if race of to royed. airs. t ed in ory. . . . Yet it o fess, to suffer publiake publient. to tell to earto ill old tle to ty Merton. For it mirror, t . Vanity? Curiosity? ion t? t least so. But y ys sake ried t now.
But t to dog o be burdened by ? as o fess? of evidence left against ure itself-- t . it so long? O o c o suigerror lest ot. It melancs mere memory s of joy. It o roy it.
abbed Basil many times, till tai upon it. It er, so it ers t meant. It , and rous soul-life, and its peace. abbed ture .
ts agony t tened servants out of tlemen, t ill t a poli and brougimes, but t for a ligop er a time, aood in an adjoining portid ched.
", stable?" asked tlemen.
"Mr. Dorian Grays, sir," anshe poli.
t eas uncle.
Inside, in ts part of tics alking in low wo each.
After about a quarter of an tmen and crept upstairs. t t. Everytill. Finally, after vainly trying to force t on to ts were old.
ered, trait of ter as t seen e youty. Lying on t. till t t was.
thE END
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