name　across　a　bill；　am　i　his　keeper？　i　know　how　people　chatter　in　england。　the　middle　classes　air　their　moral　prejudices　over　their　gross　dinner…tables；　and　whisper　about　what　they　call　the　profligacies　of　their　betters　in　order　to　try　and　pretend　that　they　are　in　smart　society　and　on　intimate　terms　with　the　people　they　slander。　in　this　country；　it　is　enough　for　a　man　to　have　distinction　and　brains　for　every　mon　tongue　to　wag　against　him。　and　what　sort　of　lives　do　these　people；　who　pose　as　being　moral；　lead　themselves？　my　dear　fellow；　you　forget　that　we　are　in　the　native　land　of　the　hypocrite。〃
  〃dorian；〃　cried　hallward；　〃that　is　not　the　question。　england　is　bad　enough　i　know；　and　english　society　is　all　wrong。　that　is　the　reason　why　i　want　you　to　be　fine。　you　have　not　been　fine。　one　has　a　right　to　judge　of　a　man　by　the　effect　he　has　over　his　friends。　yours　seem　to　lose　all　sense　of　honour；　of　goodness；　of　purity。　you　have　filled　them　with　a　madness　for　pleasure。　they　have　gone　down　into　the　depths。　you　led　them　there。　yes：　you　led　them　there；　and　yet　you　can　smile；　as　you　are　smiling　now。　and　there　is　worse　behind。　i　know　you　and　harry　are　inseparable。　surely　for　that　reason；　if　for　none　other；　you　should　not　have　made　his　sisters　name　a　by…word。〃
  〃take　care；　basil。　you　go　too　far。〃
  〃i　must　speak；　and　you　must　listen。　you　shall　listen。　when　you　met　lady　gwendolen；　not　a　breath　of　scandal　had　ever　touched　her。　is　there　a　single　decent　woman　in　london　now　who　would　drive　with　her　in　the　park？　why；　even　her　children　are　not　allowed　to　live　with　her。　then　there　are　other　stories　stories　that　you　have　been　seen　creeping　at　dawn　out　of　dreadful　houses　and　slinking　in　disguise　into　the　foulest　dens　in　london。　are　they　true？　can　they　be　true？　when　i　first　heard　them；　i　laughed。　i　hear　them　now；　and　they　make　me　shudder。　what　about　your　country…house　and　the　life　that　is　led　there？　dorian；　you　dont　know　what　is　said　about　you。　i　wont　tell　you　that　i　dont　want　to　preach　to　you。　i　remember　harry　saying　once　that　every　man　who　turned　himself　into　an　amateur　curate　for　the　moment　always　began　by　saying　that；　and　then　proceeded　to　break　his　word。　i　do　want　to　preach　to　you。　i　want　you　to　lead　such　a　life　as　will　make　the　world　respect　you。　i　want　you　to　have　a　clean　name　and　a　fair　record。　i　want　you　to　get　rid　of　the　dreadful　people　you　associate　with。　dont　shrug　your　shoulders　like　that。　dont　be　so　indifferent。　you　have　a　wonderful　influence。　let　it　be　for　good；　not　for　evil。　they　say　that　you　corrupt　every　one　with　whom　you　bee　intimate；　and　that　it　is　quite　sufficient　for　you　to　enter　a　house　for　shame　of　some　kind　to　follow　after。　i　dont　know　whether　it　is　so　or　not。　how　should　i　know？　but　it　is　said　of　you。　i　am　told　things　that　it　seems　impossible　to　doubt。　lord　gloucester　was　one　of　my　greatest　friends　at　oxford。　he　showed　me　a　letter　that　his　wife　had　written　to　him　when　she　was　dying　alone　in　her　villa　at　mentone。　your　name　was　implicated　in　the　most　terrible　confession　i　ever　read。　i　told　him　that　it　was　absurdthat　i　knew　you　thoroughly　and　that　you　were　incapable　of　anything　of　the　kind。　know　you？　i　wonder　do　i　know　you？　before　i　could　answer　that；　i　should　have　to　see　your　soul。〃
  〃to　see　my　soul！〃　muttered　dorian　gray；　starting　up　from　the　sofa　and　turning　almost　white　from　fear。
  〃yes；〃　answered　hallward　gravely；　and　with　deep…toned　sorrow　in　his　voice；　〃to　see　your　soul。　but　only　god　can　do　that。〃
  a　bitter　laugh　of　mockery　broke　from　the　lips　of　the　younger　man。　〃you　shall　see　it　yourself；　to…night！〃　he　cried；　seizing　a　lamp　from　the　table。　〃e：　it　is　your　own　handiwork。　why　shouldnt　you　look　at　it？　you　can　tell　the　world　all　about　it　afterwards；　if　you　choose。　nobody　would　believe　you。　if　they　did　believe　you；　they　would　like　me　all　the　better　for　it。　i　know　the　age　better　than　you　do；　though　you　will　prate　about　it　so　tediously。　e；　i　tell　you。　you　have　chattered　enough　about　corruption。　now　you　shall　look　on　it　face　to　face。〃
  there　was　the　madness　of　pride　in　every　word　he　uttered。　he　stamped　his　foot　upon　the　ground　in　his　boyish　insolent　manner。　he　felt　a　terrible　joy　at　the　thought　that　some　one　else　was　to　share　his　secret；　and　that　the　man　who　had　painted　the　portrait　that　was　the　origin　of　all　his　shame　was　to　be　burdened　for　the　rest　of　his　life　with　the　hideous　memory　of　what　he　had　done。
  〃yes；〃　he　continued；　ing　closer　to　him　and　looking　steadfastly　into　his　stern　eyes；　〃i　shall　show　you　my　soul。　you　shall　see　the　thing　that　you　fancy　only　god　can　see。〃
  hallward　started　back。　〃this　is　blasphemy；　dorian！〃　he　cried。　〃you　must　not　say　things　like　that。　they　are　horrible；　and　they　dont　mean　anything。〃
  〃you　think　so？〃　he　laughed　again。
  〃i　know　so。　as　for　what　i　said　to　you　to…night；　i　said　it　for　your　good。　you　know　i　have　been　always　a　stanch　friend　to　you。〃
  〃dont　touch　me。　finish　what　you　have　to　say。〃
  a　twisted　flash　of　pain　shot　across　the　painters　face。　he　paused　for　a　moment；　and　a　wild　feeling　of　pity　came　over　him。　after　all；　what　right　had　he　to　pry　into　the　life　of　dorian　gray？　if　he　had　done　a　tithe　of　what　was　rumoured　about　him；　how　much　he　must　have　suffered！　then　he　straightened　himself　up；　and　walked　over　to　the　fire…place；　and　stood　there；　looking　at　the　burning　logs　with　their　frostlike　ashes　and　their　throbbing　cores　of　flame。
  〃i　am　waiting；　basil；〃　said　the　young　man　in　a　hard　clear　voice。
  he　turned　round。　〃what　i　have　to　say　is　this；〃　he　cried。　〃you　must　give　me　some　answer　to　these　horrible　charges　that　are　made　against　you。　if　you　tell　me　that　they　are　absolutely　untrue　from　beginning　to　end；　i　shall　believe　you。　deny　them；　dorian；　deny　them！　cant　you　see　what　i　am　going　through？　my　god！　dont　tell　me　that　you　are　bad；　and　corrupt；　and　shameful。〃
  dorian　gray　smiled。　there　was　a　curl　of　contempt　in　his　lips。　〃e　upstairs；　basil；〃　he　said　quietly。　〃i　keep　a　diary　of　my　life　from　day　to　day；　and　it　never　leaves　the　room　in　which　it　is　written。　i　shall　show　it　to　you　if　you　e　with　me。〃
  〃i　shall　e　with　you；　dorian；　if　you　wish　it。　i　see　i　have　missed　my　train。　that　makes　no　matter。　i　can　go　to…morrow。　but　dont　ask　me　to　read　anything　to…night。　all　i　want　is　a　plain　answer　to　my　question。〃
  〃that　shall　be　given　to　you　upstairs。　i　could　not　give　it　here。　you　will　not　have　to　read　long。〃
  ww锛枫€?br />
  Chapter　13
  銆€灏忥伎璇磘…x…t锛垮ぉ/鍫?br />
  chapter　13
  he　passed　out　of　the　room　and　began　the　ascent；　basil　hallward　following　close　behind。　they　walked　softly；　as　men　do　instinctively　at　night。　the　lamp　cast　fantastic　shadows　on　the　wall　and　staircase。　a　rising　wind　made　some　of　the　windows　rattle。
  when　they　reached　the　top　landing；　dorian　set　the　lamp　down　on　the　floor；　and　taking　out　the　key；　turned　it　in　the　lock。　〃you　insist　on　knowing；　basil？〃　he　asked　in　a　low　voice。
  〃yes。〃
  〃i　am　delighted；〃　he　answered；　smiling。　then　he　added；　somewhat　harshly；　〃you　are　the　one　man　in　the　world　who　is　entitled　to　know　everything　about　me。　you　have　had　more　to　do　with　my　life　than　you　think〃；　and；　taking　up　the　lamp；　he　opened　the　door　and　went　in。　a　cold　current　of　air　passed　them；　and　the　light　shot　up　for　a　moment　in　a　flame　of　murky　orange。　he　shuddered。　〃shut　the　door　behind　you；〃　he　whispered；　as　he　placed　the　lamp　on　the　table。
  hallward　glanced　round　him　with　a　puzzled　expression。　the　room　looked　as　if　it　had　not　been　lived　in　for　years。　a　faded　flemish　tapestry；　a　curtained　picture；　an　old　italian　cassone；　and　an　almost　empty　book…casethat　was　all　that　it　seemed　to　contain；　besides　a　chair　and　a　table。　as　dorian　gray　was　lighting　a　half…burned　candle　that　was　standing　on　the　mantelshelf；　he　saw　that　the　whole　place　was　covered　with　dust　and　that　the　carpet　was　in　holes。　a　mouse　ran　scuffling　behind　the　wainscoting。　there　was　a　damp　odour　of　mildew。
  〃so　you　think　that　it　is　only　god　who　sees　the　soul；　basil？　draw　that　curtain　back；　and　you　will　see　mine。〃
  the　voice　that　spoke　was　cold　and　cruel。　〃you　are　mad；　dorian；　or　playing　a　part；〃　muttered　hallward；　frowning。
  〃you　wont？　then　i　must　do　it　myself；〃　said　the　young　man；　and　he　tore　the　curtain　from　its　rod　and　flung　it　on　the　ground。
  an　exclamation　of　horror　broke　from　the　painters　lips　as　he　saw　in　the　dim　light　the　hideous　face　on　the　canvas　grinning　at　him。　there　was　something　in　its　expression　that　filled　him　with　disgust　and　loathing。　good　heavens！　it　was　dorian　grays　own　face　that　he　was　looking　at！　the　horror；　whatever　it　was；　had　not　yet　entirely　spoiled　that　marvellous　beauty。　there　was　still　some　gold　in　the　thinning　hair　and　some　scarlet　on　the　sensual　mouth。　the　sodden　eyes　had　kept　something　of　the　loveliness　of　their　blue；　the　noble　curves　had　not　yet　pletely　passed　away　from　chiselled　nostrils　and　from　plastic　throat。　yes；　it　was　dorian　himself。　but　who　had　done　it？　he　seemed　to　recognize　his　own　brushwork；　and　the　frame　was　his　own　design。　the　idea　was　monstrous；　yet　he　felt　afraid。　he　seized　the　lighted　candle；　and　held　it　to　the　picture。　in　the　left…hand　corner　was　his　own　name；　traced　in　long　letters　of　bright　vermilion。
  it　was　some　foul　parody；　some　infamous　ignoble　satire。　he　had　never　done　that。　still；　it　was　his　own　picture。　he　knew　it；　and　he　felt　as　if　his　blood　h