Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 20
Оглавление“Certainly,” Dorian replied, walking out of the studio.
“You won’t forget?”
“No, of course not.”
Basil paused for a moment. “And…Harry?”
“Yes, Basil?” Answered Lord Wotton, donning his jacket.
“Remember what I asked you when we were in the garden this morning.”
“I have forgotten it.”
“I trust you.”
“I wish I could trust myself,” said Lord Wotton, laughing. “Come, Mr. Gray, my hansom is outside, and I can drop you at your own place. Good-bye, Basil. It has been a most interesting afternoon.”
But Dorian did not heed his warning. And his life would never be the same. As the door closed behind them, the painter threw himself on the sofa, and a look of pain came into his face.
Basil licked his lips, ran his tongue along his teeth. He felt as if something had crawled into his mouth and died. And then, somewhere, far in the distance, he heard a faint cackling.
He quickly got out of the couch and looked around in confusion. Where the hell had that come from? Feeling vaguely uneasy, he wandered across the foyer.
The cackling continued as Basil drew closer to what seemed to be the source: the picture of Dorian Gray. But as he approached it, he only got within just a couple of feet, the laughter abruptly stopped. It was as if there was
DORIAN GRAY
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