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- Оскар Уайльд
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- Портрет Дориана Грея
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- Стр. 107/164
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"
No
,
sir
,
except
that
he
would
write
to
you
from
Paris
,
if
he
did
not
find
you
at
the
club
.
"
"
That
will
do
,
Francis
.
Do
n't
forget
to
call
me
at
nine
to-morrow
.
"
"
No
,
sir
.
"
The
man
shambled
down
the
passage
in
his
slippers
.
Dorian
Gray
threw
his
hat
and
coat
upon
the
table
,
and
passed
into
the
library
.
For
a
quarter
of
an
hour
he
walked
up
and
down
the
room
biting
his
lip
,
and
thinking
.
Then
he
took
down
the
Blue
Book
from
one
of
the
shelves
,
and
began
to
turn
over
the
leaves
.
"
Alan
Campbell
,
152
,
Hertford
Street
,
Mayfair
.
"
Yes
;
that
was
the
man
he
wanted
.
At
nine
o'clock
the
next
morning
his
servant
came
in
with
a
cup
of
chocolate
on
a
tray
,
and
opened
the
shutters
.
Dorian
was
sleeping
quite
peacefully
,
lying
on
his
right
side
,
with
one
hand
underneath
his
cheek
.
He
looked
like
a
boy
who
had
been
tired
out
with
play
,
or
study
.
The
man
had
to
touch
him
twice
on
the
shoulder
before
he
woke
,
and
as
he
opened
his
eyes
a
faint
smile
passed
across
his
lips
,
as
though
he
had
been
lost
in
some
delightful
dream
.
Yet
he
had
not
dreamed
at
all
.
His
night
had
been
untroubled
by
any
images
of
pleasure
or
of
pain
.
But
youth
smiles
without
any
reason
.
It
is
one
of
its
chiefest
charms
.
He
turned
round
,
and
,
leaning
upon
his
elbow
,
began
to
sip
his
chocolate
.
The
mellow
November
sun
came
streaming
into
the
room
.
The
sky
was
bright
,
and
there
was
a
genial
warmth
in
the
air
.
It
was
almost
like
a
morning
in
May
.
Gradually
the
events
of
the
preceding
night
crept
with
silent
blood-stained
feet
into
his
brain
,
and
reconstructed
themselves
there
with
terrible
distinctness
.
He
winced
at
the
memory
of
all
that
he
had
suffered
,
and
for
a
moment
the
same
curious
feeling
of
loathing
for
Basil
Hallward
that
had
made
him
kill
him
as
he
sat
in
the
chair
,
came
back
to
him
,
and
he
grew
cold
with
passion
.
The
dead
man
was
still
sitting
there
,
too
,
and
in
the
sunlight
now
.
How
horrible
that
was
!
Such
hideous
things
were
for
the
darkness
,
not
for
the
day
.
