Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 13

was certainly handsome, with blue eyes and dark brown hair. He had an aura of purity and youth that enveloped him.

“You must lend me this sheet music, Basil. I want to learn it. It is beautiful!” Dorian announced.

“That entirely depends on how you sit today, Dorian.” Basil replied.

“Oh, I’m tired of sitting and I don’t know if I even want a life-sized portrait of myself.” Dorian answered, and then he saw Lord Wotton. “I beg your pardon, Basil, I didn’t realize you had company.”

“This is Lord Henry Wotton, Dorian, an old Oxford friend of mine. I have just been telling him what a terrific subject you are.” Basil said.

“I have a great pleasure in meeting you, Mr. Gray,” said Lord Wotton, stepping forward and extending his hand. “My aunt has often spoken to me about you. You are one of her favorites.”

“I am on Lady Agatha’s bad list at the present,” replied Dorian. “I promised to go to a club in Whitechapel with her last Tuesday and I genuinely forgot all about it. We were suppose to play several duets together—three duets, I believe.”

“I will make peace with my aunt. She likes you very much.” Wotton looked at him and was again struck by his youthful cherub appearance. Dorian Gray seemed curiously unspoiled by the world. He seemed to be good and pure.

It was at the moment that Lord Wotton decided not to pay attention to Basil’s warning. And although Basil had cautioned

JOHN GRAVAGLIA

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