Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 19

say. A perplexed look stretched across Dorian’s innocent and youthful façade.

“Would you?” Lord Wotton repeated the question, lighting a cigarette.

After what it seemed like forever Dorian finally answered. “Yes.”

Basil shook his head. “You can’t possibly mean that, Dorian.”

Dorian raised his hand as if he were saluting. “With this, I nail my soul on the devil’s altar.”

After much chitchat, Dorian made plans to dine with Lord Wotton. Basil begged him not to go, fearing that the older man’s encouragement would destroy his all-to-trusting friend.

“Don’t go to the theatre tonight, Dorian,” pleaded Basil. “Stop and dine with me.”

“I can’t, Basil!” Dorian replied, straightening his tie.

“Why?”

“Because I have promised Lord Wotton to go with him.”

“He won’t like you the better for keeping your promises. He always breaks his own. I beg you not to go.”

Dorian laughed and shook his head.

“I entreat you.”

The boy hesitated, and looked over to Lord Wotton, who was watching them with an amused smile.

“I must go, Basil,” Dorian answered.

“Very well,” Basil said, in defeat. “It is rather late, and, as you have to dress, you had better lose no time. Good-bye, Harry. Good-bye, Dorian. Come and see me soon. Perhaps tomorrow.”

JOHN GRAVAGLIA

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