There was a horrible fascination in them all.
He saw them at night, and they troubled his imagination
in the day. The Renaissance knew of strange manners
of poisoning— poisoning by a helmet and
a lighted torch, by an embroidered glove and a jewelled
fan, by a gilded pomander and by an amber chain.
Dorian Gray had been poisoned by a book. There
were moments when he looked on evil simply as a mode
through which he could realize his conception of the
beautiful.
It was on the ninth of November, the eve of his own
thirty-eighth birthday, as he often remembered afterwards.
He was walking home about eleven o’clock from
Lord Henry’s, where he had been dining, and
was wrapped in heavy furs, as the night was cold and
foggy. At the corner of Grosvenor Square and
South Audley Street, a man passed him in the mist,
walking very fast and with the collar of his grey ulster
turned up. He had a bag in his hand. Dorian
recognized him. It was Basil Hallward.
A strange sense of fear, for which he could not account,
came over him. He made no sign of recognition
and went on quickly in the direction of his own house.
But Hallward had seen him. Dorian heard him
first stopping on the pavement and then hurrying after
him. In a few moments, his hand was on his arm.
“Dorian! What an extraordinary piece of
luck! I have been waiting for you in your library
ever since nine o’clock. Finally I took
pity on your tired servant and told him to go to bed,
as he let me out. I am off to Paris by the midnight
train, and I particularly wanted to see you before
I left. I thought it was you, or rather your
fur coat, as you passed me. But I wasn’t
quite sure. Didn’t you recognize me?”
“In this fog, my dear Basil? Why, I can’t
even recognize Grosvenor Square. I believe my
house is somewhere about here, but I don’t feel
at all certain about it. I am sorry you are
going away, as I have not seen you for ages.
But I suppose you will be back soon?”
“No: I am going to be out of England for
six months. I intend to take a studio in Paris
and shut myself up till I have finished a great picture
I have in my head. However, it wasn’t
about myself I wanted to talk. Here we are at
your door. Let me come in for a moment.
I have something to say to you.”
“I shall be charmed. But won’t you
miss your train?” said Dorian Gray languidly
as he passed up the steps and opened the door with
his latch-key.
The lamplight struggled out through the fog, and Hallward
looked at his watch. “I have heaps of
time,” he answered. “The train doesn’t
go till twelve-fifteen, and it is only just eleven.
In fact, I was on my way to the club to look for you,
when I met you. You see, I shan’t have
any delay about luggage, as I have sent on my heavy
things. All I have with me is in this bag, and
I can easily get to Victoria in twenty minutes.”
