otion。　no　one　can；　except　sentimentalists。　and　you　are　awfully　unjust；　basil。　you　e　down　here　to　console　me。　that　is　charming　of　you。　you　find　me　consoled；　and　you　are　furious。　how　like　a　sympathetic　person！　you　remind　me　of　a　story　harry　told　me　about　a　certain　philanthropist　who　spent　twenty　years　of　his　life　in　trying　to　get　some　grievance　redressed；　or　some　unjust　law　alteredi　forget　exactly　what　it　was。　finally　he　succeeded；　and　nothing　could　exceed　his　disappointment。　he　had　absolutely　nothing　to　do；　almost　died　of　ennui；　and　became　a　confirmed　misanthrope。　and　besides；　my　dear　old　basil；　if　you　really　want　to　console　me；　teach　me　rather　to　forget　what　has　happened；　or　to　see　it　from　a　proper　artistic　point　of　view。　was　it　not　gautier　who　used　to　write　about　la　consolation　des　arts？　i　remember　picking　up　a　little　vellum…covered　book　in　your　studio　one　day　and　chancing　on　that　delightful　phrase。　well；　i　am　not　like　that　young　man　you　told　me　of　when　we　were　down　at　marlow　together；　the　young　man　who　used　to　say　that　yellow　satin　could　console　one　for　all　the　miseries　of　life。　i　love　beautiful　things　that　one　can　touch　and　handle。　old　brocades；　green　bronzes；　lacquer…work；　carved　ivories；　exquisite　surroundings；　luxury；　pompthere　is　much　to　be　got　from　all　these。　but　the　artistic　temperament　that　they　create；　or　at　any　rate　reveal；　is　still　more　to　me。　to　bee　the　spectator　of　ones　own　life；　as　harry　says；　is　to　escape　the　suffering　of　life。　i　know　you　are　surprised　at　my　talking　to　you　like　this。　you　have　not　realized　how　i　have　developed。　i　was　a　schoolboy　when　you　knew　me。　i　am　a　man　now。　i　have　new　passions；　new　thoughts；　new　ideas。　i　am　different；　but　you　must　not　like　me　less。　i　am　changed；　but　you　must　always　be　my　friend。　of　course；　i　am　very　fond　of　harry。　but　i　know　that　you　are　better　than　he　is。　you　are　not　stronger　you　are　too　much　afraid　of　lifebut　you　are　better。　and　how　happy　we　used　to　be　together！　dont　leave　me；　basil；　and　dont　quarrel　with　me。　i　am　what　i　am。　there　is　nothing　more　to　be　said。〃
  the　painter　felt　strangely　moved。　the　lad　was　infinitely　dear　to　him；　and　his　personality　had　been　the　great　turning　point　in　his　art。　he　could　not　bear　the　idea　of　reproaching　him　any　more。　after　all；　his　indifference　was　probably　merely　a　mood　that　would　pass　away。　there　was　so　much　in　him　that　was　good；　so　much　in　him　that　was　noble。
  〃well；　dorian；〃　he　said　at　length；　with　a　sad　smile；　〃i　wont　speak　to　you　again　about　this　horrible　thing；　after　to…day。　i　only　trust　your　name　wont　be　mentioned　in　connection　with　it。　the　inquest　is　to　take　place　this　afternoon。　have　they　summoned　you？〃
  dorian　shook　his　head；　and　a　look　of　annoyance　passed　over　his　face　at　the　mention　of　the　word　〃inquest。〃　there　was　something　so　crude　and　vulgar　about　everything　of　the　kind。　〃they　dont　know　my　name；〃　he　answered。
  〃but　surely　she　did？〃
  〃only　my　christian　name；　and　that　i　am　quite　sure　she　never　mentioned　to　any　one。　she　told　me　once　that　they　were　all　rather　curious　to　learn　who　i　was；　and　that　she　invariably　told　them　my　name　was　prince　charming。　it　was　pretty　of　her。　you　must　do　me　a　drawing　of　sibyl；　basil。　i　should　like　to　have　something　more　of　her　than　the　memory　of　a　few　kisses　and　some　broken　pathetic　words。〃
  〃i　will　try　and　do　something；　dorian；　if　it　would　please　you。　but　you　must　e　and　sit　to　me　yourself　again。　i　cant　get　on　without　you。〃
  〃i　can　never　sit　to　you　again；　basil。　it　is　impossible！〃　he　exclaimed；　starting　back。
  the　painter　stared　at　him。　〃my　dear　boy；　what　nonsense！〃　he　cried。　〃do　you　mean　to　say　you　dont　like　what　i　did　of　you？　where　is　it？　why　have　you　pulled　the　screen　in　front　of　it？　let　me　look　at　it。　it　is　the　best　thing　i　have　ever　done。　do　take　the　screen　away；　dorian。　it　is　simply　disgraceful　of　your　servant　hiding　my　work　like　that。　i　felt　the　room　looked　different　as　i　came　in。〃
  〃my　servant　has　nothing　to　do　with　it；　basil。　you　dont　imagine　i　let　him　arrange　my　room　for　me？　he　settles　my　flowers　for　me　sometimes　that　is　all。　no；　i　did　it　myself。　the　light　was　too　strong　on　the　portrait。〃
  〃too　strong！　surely　not；　my　dear　fellow？　it　is　an　admirable　place　for　it。　let　me　see　it。〃　and　hallward　walked　towards　the　corner　of　the　room。
  a　cry　of　terror　broke　from　dorian　grays　lips；　and　he　rushed　between　the　painter　and　the　screen。　〃basil；〃　he　said；　looking　very　pale；　〃you　must　not　look　at　it。　i　dont　wish　you　to。〃
  〃not　look　at　my　own　work！　you　are　not　serious。　why　shouldnt　i　look　at　it？〃　exclaimed　hallward；　laughing。
  〃if　you　try　to　look　at　it；　basil；　on　my　word　of　honour　i　will　never　speak　to　you　again　as　long　as　i　live。　i　am　quite　serious。　i　dont　offer　any　explanation；　and　you　are　not　to　ask　for　any。　but；　remember；　if　you　touch　this　screen；　everything　is　over　between　us。〃
  hallward　was　thunderstruck。　he　looked　at　dorian　gray　in　absolute　amazement。　he　had　never　seen　him　like　this　before。　the　lad　was　actually　pallid　with　rage。　his　hands　were　clenched；　and　the　pupils　of　his　eyes　were　like　disks　of　blue　fire。　he　was　trembling　all　over。
  〃dorian！〃
  〃dont　speak！〃
  〃but　what　is　the　matter？　of　course　i　wont　look　at　it　if　you　dont　want　me　to；〃　he　said；　rather　coldly；　turning　on　his　heel　and　going　over　towards　the　window。　〃but；　really；　it　seems　rather　absurd　that　i　shouldnt　see　my　own　work；　especially　as　i　am　going　to　exhibit　it　in　paris　in　the　autumn。　i　shall　probably　have　to　give　it　another　coat　of　varnish　before　that；　so　i　must　see　it　some　day；　and　why　not　to…day？〃
  〃to　exhibit　it！　you　want　to　exhibit　it？〃　exclaimed　dorian　gray；　a　strange　sense　of　terror　creeping　over　him。　was　the　world　going　to　be　shown　his　secret？　were　people　to　gape　at　the　mystery　of　his　life？　that　was　impossible。　somethinghe　did　not　know　whathad　to　be　done　at　once。
  〃yes；　i　dont　suppose　you　will　object　to　that。　georges　petit　is　going　to　collect　all　my　best　pictures　for　a　special　exhibition　in　the　rue　de　seze；　which　will　open　the　first　week　in　october。　the　portrait　will　only　be　away　a　month。　i　should　think　you　could　easily　spare　it　for　that　time。　in　fact；　you　are　sure　to　be　out　of　town。　and　if　you　keep　it　always　behind　a　screen；　you　cant　care　much　about　it。〃
  dorian　gray　passed　his　hand　over　his　forehead。　there　were　beads　of　perspiration　there。　he　felt　that　he　was　on　the　brink　of　a　horrible　danger。　〃you　told　me　a　month　ago　that　you　would　never　exhibit　it；〃　he　cried。　〃why　have　you　changed　your　mind？　you　people　who　go　in　for　being　consistent　have　just　as　many　moods　as　others　have。　the　only　difference　is　that　your　moods　are　rather　meaningless。　you　cant　have　forgotten　that　you　assured　me　most　solemnly　that　nothing　in　the　world　would　induce　you　to　send　it　to　any　exhibition。　you　told　harry　exactly　the　same　thing。〃　he　stopped　suddenly；　and　a　gleam　of　light　came　into　his　eyes。　he　remembered　that　lord　henry　had　said　to　him　once；　half　seriously　and　half　in　jest；　〃if　you　want　to　have　a　strange　quarter　of　an　hour；　get　basil　to　tell　you　why　he　wont　exhibit　your　picture。　he　told　me　why　he　wouldnt；　and　it　was　a　revelation　to　me。〃　yes；　perhaps　basil；　too；　had　his　secret。　he　would　ask　him　and　try。
  〃basil；〃　he　said；　ing　over　quite　close　and　looking　him　straight　in　the　face；　〃we　have　each　of　us　a　secret。　let　me　know　yours；　and　i　shall　tell　you　mine。　what　was　your　reason　for　refusing　to　exhibit　my　picture？〃
  the　painter　shuddered　in　spite　of　himself。　〃dorian；　if　i　told　you；　you　might　like　me　less　than　you　do；　and　you　would　certainly　laugh　at　me。　i　could　not　bear　your　doing　either　of　those　two　things。　if　you　wish　me　never　to　look　at　your　picture　again；　i　am　content。　i　have　always　you　to　look　at。　if　you　wish　the　best　work　i　have　ever　done　to　be　hidden　from　the　world；　i　am　satisfied。　your　friendship　is　dearer　to　me　than　any　fame　or　reputation。〃
  〃no；　basil；　you　must　tell　me；〃　insisted　dorian　gray。　〃i　think　i　have　a　right　to　know。〃　his　feeling　of　terror　had　passed　away；　and　curiosity　had　taken　its　place。　he　was　determined　to　find　out　basil　hallwards　mystery。
  〃let　us　sit　down；　dorian；〃　said　the　painter；　looking　troubled。　〃let　us　sit　down。　and　just　answer　me　one　question。　have　you　noticed　in　the　picture　something　curious？something　that　probably　at　first　did　not　strike　you；　but　that　revealed　itself　to　you　suddenly？〃
  〃basil！〃　cried　the　lad；　clutching　the　arms　of　his　chair　with　trembling　hands　and　gazing　at　him　with　wild　startled　eyes。
  〃i　see　you　did。　dont　speak。　wait　till　you　hear　what　i　have　to　say。　dorian；　from　the　moment　i　met　you；　your　personality　had　the　most　extraordinary　influence　over　me。　i　was　dominated；　soul；　brain；　and　power；　by　you。　you　became　to　me　the　visible　incarnation　of　that　unseen　ideal　whose　memory　haunts　us　artists　like　an　exquisite　dream。　i　worshipped　you。　i　grew　jealous　of　every　one　to　whom　you　spoke。　i　wanted　to　have　you　all　to　myself。　i　was　only　happy　when　i　was　with　you。　when　you　were　away　from　me；　you　were　still　present　in　my　art。。。。　of　course；　i　never　let　you　know　anything　about　this。　it　would　have　been　impossible。　you　would　not　have　understood　it。　i　hardly　understood　it　myself。　i　only　knew　that　i　had　seen　perfection　face　to　face；　and　that　the　world　had　bee　wonderful　to　my　eyes　too　wonderful；　perhaps；　for　in　such　mad　worships　there　is　peril；　the　peril　of　losing　them；　no　less　than　the　peril