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- Портрет Дориана Грея
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- Стр. 86/164
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"
Impossible
!
"
"
You
spoil
my
life
as
an
artist
by
refusing
,
Dorian
.
No
man
came
across
two
ideal
things
.
Few
come
across
one
.
"
"
I
ca
n't
explain
it
to
you
,
Basil
,
but
I
must
never
sit
to
you
again
.
There
is
something
fatal
about
a
portrait
.
It
has
a
life
of
its
own
.
I
will
come
and
have
tea
with
you
.
That
will
be
just
as
pleasant
.
"
"
Pleasanter
for
you
,
I
am
afraid
,
"
murmured
Hallward
,
regretfully
.
"
And
now
good-bye
.
I
am
sorry
you
wo
n't
let
me
look
at
the
picture
once
again
.
But
that
ca
n't
be
helped
.
I
quite
understand
what
you
feel
about
it
.
"
As
he
left
the
room
,
Dorian
Gray
smiled
to
himself
.
Poor
Basil
!
how
little
he
knew
of
the
true
reason
!
And
how
strange
it
was
that
,
instead
of
having
been
forced
to
reveal
his
own
secret
,
he
had
succeeded
,
almost
by
chance
,
in
wresting
a
secret
from
his
friend
!
How
much
that
strange
confession
explained
to
him
!
The
painter
's
absurd
fits
of
jealousy
,
his
wild
devotion
,
his
extravagant
panegyrics
,
his
curious
reticences
--
he
understood
them
all
now
,
and
he
felt
sorry
.
There
seemed
to
him
to
be
something
tragic
in
a
friendship
so
coloured
by
romance
.
He
sighed
,
and
touched
the
bell
.
The
portrait
must
be
hidden
away
at
all
costs
.
He
could
not
run
such
a
risk
of
discovery
again
.
It
had
been
mad
of
him
to
have
allowed
the
thing
to
remain
,
even
for
an
hour
,
in
a
room
to
which
any
of
his
friends
had
access
.
When
his
servant
entered
,
he
looked
at
him
steadfastly
,
and
wondered
if
he
had
thought
of
peering
behind
the
screen
.
The
man
was
quite
impassive
,
and
waited
for
his
orders
.
Dorian
lit
a
cigarette
,
and
walked
over
to
the
glass
and
glanced
into
it
.
He
could
see
the
reflection
of
Victor
's
face
perfectly
.
It
was
like
a
placid
mask
of
servility
.
There
was
nothing
to
be
afraid
of
,
there
.
Yet
he
thought
it
best
to
be
on
his
guard
.
Speaking
very
slowly
,
he
told
him
to
tell
the
housekeeper
that
he
wanted
to
see
her
,
and
then
to
go
to
the
frame-maker
and
ask
him
to
send
two
of
his
men
round
at
once
.
It
seemed
to
him
that
as
the
man
left
the
room
his
eyes
wandered
in
the
direction
of
the
screen
.
Or
was
that
merely
his
own
fancy
?
After
a
few
moments
,
in
her
black
silk
dress
,
with
old-fashioned
thread
mittens
on
her
wrinkled
hands
,
Mrs.
Leaf
bustled
into
the
library
.
He
asked
her
for
the
key
of
the
schoolroom
.
"
The
old
schoolroom
,
Mr.
Dorian
?
"
she
exclaimed
.
"
Why
,
it
is
full
of
dust
.
I
must
get
it
arranged
,
and
put
straight
before
you
go
into
it
.
It
is
not
fit
for
you
to
see
,
sir
.
It
is
not
,
indeed
.
"
