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- Портрет Дориана Грея
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- Стр. 119/164
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As
it
was
,
our
bonnets
were
so
unbecoming
,
and
the
mills
were
so
occupied
in
trying
to
raise
the
wind
,
that
I
never
had
even
a
flirtation
with
anybody
.
However
,
that
was
all
Narborough
's
fault
.
He
was
dreadfully
short-sighted
,
and
there
is
no
pleasure
in
taking
in
a
husband
who
never
sees
anything
.
"
Her
guests
this
evening
were
rather
tedious
.
The
fact
was
,
as
she
explained
to
Dorian
,
behind
a
very
shabby
fan
,
one
of
her
married
daughters
had
come
up
quite
suddenly
to
stay
with
her
,
and
,
to
make
matters
worse
,
had
actually
brought
her
husband
with
her
.
"
I
think
it
is
most
unkind
of
her
,
my
dear
,
"
she
whispered
.
"
Of
course
I
go
and
stay
with
them
every
summer
after
I
come
from
Homburg
,
but
then
an
old
woman
like
me
must
have
fresh
air
sometimes
,
and
besides
,
I
really
wake
them
up
.
You
do
n't
know
what
an
existence
they
lead
down
there
.
It
is
pure
unadulterated
country
life
.
They
get
up
early
,
because
they
have
so
much
to
do
,
and
go
to
bed
early
because
they
have
so
little
to
think
about
.
There
has
not
been
a
scandal
in
the
neighbourhood
since
the
time
of
Queen
Elizabeth
,
and
consequently
they
all
fall
asleep
after
dinner
.
You
sha
n't
sit
next
either
of
them
.
You
shall
sit
by
me
,
and
amuse
me
.
"
Dorian
murmured
a
graceful
compliment
,
and
looked
round
the
room
.
Yes
:
it
was
certainly
a
tedious
party
.
Two
of
the
people
he
had
never
seen
before
,
and
the
others
consisted
of
Ernest
Harrowden
,
one
of
those
middle-aged
mediocrities
so
common
in
London
clubs
who
have
no
enemies
,
but
are
thoroughly
disliked
by
their
friends
;
Lady
Ruxton
,
an
over-dressed
woman
of
forty-seven
,
with
a
hooked
nose
,
who
was
always
trying
to
get
herself
compromised
,
but
was
so
peculiarly
plain
that
to
her
great
disappointment
no
one
would
ever
believe
anything
against
her
;
Mrs.
Erlynne
,
a
pushing
nobody
,
with
a
delightful
lisp
,
and
Venetian-red
hair
;
Lady
Alice
Chapman
,
his
hostess
's
daughter
,
a
dowdy
dull
girl
,
with
one
of
those
characteristic
British
faces
,
that
,
once
seen
,
are
never
remembered
;
and
her
husband
,
a
red-cheeked
,
white-whiskered
creature
who
,
like
so
many
of
his
class
,
was
under
the
impression
that
inordinate
joviality
can
atone
for
an
entire
lack
of
ideas
.
He
was
rather
sorry
he
had
come
,
till
Lady
Narborough
,
looking
at
the
great
ormolu
gilt
clock
that
sprawled
in
gaudy
curves
on
the
mauve-draped
mantel-shelf
,
exclaimed
:
"
How
horrid
of
Henry
Wotton
to
be
so
late
!
I
sent
round
to
him
this
morning
on
chance
,
and
he
promised
faithfully
not
to
disappoint
me
.
"
It
was
some
consolation
that
Harry
was
to
be
there
,
and
when
the
door
opened
and
he
heard
his
slow
musical
voice
lending
charm
to
some
insincere
apology
,
he
ceased
to
feel
bored
.
But
at
dinner
he
could
not
eat
anything
.
Plate
after
plate
went
away
untasted
.
Lady
Narborough
kept
scolding
him
for
what
she
called
"
an
insult
to
poor
Adolphe
,
who
invented
the
menu
specially
for
you
,
"
and
now
and
then
Lord
Henry
looked
across
at
him
,
wondering
at
his
silence
and
abstracted
manner
.
From
time
to
time
the
butler
filled
his
glass
with
champagne
.
He
drank
eagerly
,
and
his
thirst
seemed
to
increase
.
"
Dorian
,
"
said
Lord
Henry
,
at
last
,
as
the
chaud-froid
was
being
handed
round
,
"
what
is
the
matter
with
you
to-night
?
You
are
quite
out
of
sorts
.
"
"
I
believe
he
is
in
love
,
"
cried
Lady
Narborough
,
"
and
that
he
is
afraid
to
tell
me
for
fear
I
should
be
jealous
.
He
is
quite
right
.
I
certainly
should
.
"
"
Dear
Lady
Narborough
,
"
murmured
Dorian
,
smiling
,
"
I
have
not
been
in
love
for
a
whole
week
--
not
,
in
fact
,
since
Madame
de
Ferrol
left
town
.
"
