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- Портрет Дориана Грея
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"
A
Prince
!
"
she
cried
,
musically
.
"
What
more
do
you
want
?
"
"
He
wants
to
enslave
you
.
"
"
I
shudder
at
the
thought
of
being
free
.
"
"
I
want
you
to
beware
of
him
.
"
"
To
see
him
is
to
worship
him
,
to
know
him
is
to
trust
him
.
"
"
Sibyl
,
you
are
mad
about
him
.
"
She
laughed
,
and
took
his
arm
.
"
You
dear
old
Jim
,
you
talk
as
if
you
were
a
hundred
.
Some
day
you
will
be
in
love
yourself
.
Then
you
will
know
what
it
is
.
Do
n't
look
so
sulky
.
Surely
you
should
be
glad
to
think
that
,
though
you
are
going
away
,
you
leave
me
happier
than
I
have
ever
been
before
.
Life
has
been
hard
for
us
both
,
terribly
hard
and
difficult
.
But
it
will
be
different
now
.
You
are
going
to
a
new
world
,
and
I
have
found
one
.
Here
are
two
chairs
;
let
us
sit
down
and
see
the
smart
people
go
by
.
"
They
took
their
seats
amidst
a
crowd
of
watchers
.
The
tulip-beds
across
the
road
flamed
like
throbbing
rings
of
fire
.
A
white
dust
,
tremulous
cloud
of
orris-root
it
seemed
,
hung
in
the
panting
air
.
The
brightly-coloured
parasols
danced
and
dipped
like
monstrous
butterflies
.
She
made
her
brother
talk
of
himself
,
his
hopes
,
his
prospects
.
He
spoke
slowly
and
with
effort
.
They
passed
words
to
each
other
as
players
at
a
game
pass
counters
.
Sibyl
felt
oppressed
.
She
could
not
communicate
her
joy
.
A
faint
smile
curving
that
sullen
mouth
was
all
the
echo
she
could
win
.
After
some
time
she
became
silent
.
Suddenly
she
caught
a
glimpse
of
golden
hair
and
laughing
lips
,
and
in
an
open
carriage
with
two
ladies
Dorian
Gray
drove
past
.
She
started
to
her
feet
.
"
There
he
is
!
"
she
cried
.
