The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1896-10-10
T III
Of DORIAN GRAY.
4, os,.as WILDE

|IlGlUn[ VI UUnlRN u,iHl.
BIZ OSCAR WILDE.
When the sound of their footsteps had
died away, Dorian locked the door. and put
the key in his pocket. He felt safe now.
No one would ever look on the horrible
thing. No eye but his would ever see his
shame.
On reaching the library he found that it
was just after five o'clock. and that the tea
had been already brought up. On a little
table of dark, pcrfumcd wood thickly in-
crusted with nacre, q present from his
guardians wife, Lady Radley, who had
spent the preceding winter in Cairo, was
lying a note from Lord Henry, and beside
1t was a book bound in yellow paper. the
cover slightly torn and the edges soiled. A
copy of the third edition Of the st. .Jamcs's
Gazette had been placcd on the tca-tray. II
was evident that Victor had returned. He
wondered if he had met the mon in the hall
as they werc leaving the house and had
wormod out of them what they had been do
Ing. He would be sure to miss the picture
had no doubt missed it already, while he
had been laying the tea-thiEgs. The screen
had not been replaced, and the blank space
on the wall was visible. Perhaps some
night he might find him creeping upstairs
and trying to force the door of fine room. II
was a horrible thing TO have Il spy III ones
house. He had heard of rich men who had
been blackmailed all their lives by some
servant who had read Il letter, or overheard
a conversation, or picked up a card with an
address, or found beneath a pillow d
withered flower or u bit of crumplcd lace.
He sighed, and, having poured himself
out some tea, opened Lord Hcnry's note.
1t was simply to say that he sent him round
the evening paper. and u book that might
interest him, and that he would boz ut the club
Mt eight-fiftccn. Heopcncd the ".St. James,s"
%languidly, and looked languidly through it.
A red pencil-mark on the fifth page caught
his eye. He cad the following paragraph.
INQUEST ON AN AcrREss.-An inquest was
held this morning ut the Bell Tavern, Hoxtoii
Eond. ty Mr.. DANNY. the district coroner, on
sse GSa nn OF s.Sy \. y ,in H, a iy22n ,,na ae, H,Sso re
a verdict OF dentll. by misndvrntiltc was re-
turned. Considerable sympathy was expressed
for The mother OF tile dcce ased, who was gre,lt.
~ affected during tic giving of her own cvi-
dence, and that OF DR.. Birrel. who had made
post-mortem examination of the dcccuscd."
He frowned slightly, and tearing the
paper in two, Went across the room
and flung the pieces into a gilt basket. How
ugly it was! And how horribly real ugliness
made things! He felt Il little ANNOYED with
Lord Henry for having sent him the account.
And it was certainly stupid of him to have
marked it with a red pencil. Victor might
have read 1t. The man knew more than
enough English for that.
Perhaps he had read it, and had begun to
suspect something. And, yet, what did il
matter! What had Dorian Gray to do with
Sibyl Vane's death! There was nothing to
fear. Dorian Gray had not killed her.
His eye fell on the yellow book that Lord
Henry had sent him. What was it, he won
dered. He went Toward the little pearl
colored octagonal stand, that had always
looked to him like the work Of some strange
Egyptian bees who wrought in silver and
took the volume up. He flung himself into
an armchair, and began to turn over the
leaves. After a few minutes, he became
absorbed. 1t was the strangcst book he had
ever read. 1t seemed to him that in ex-
qulsite ral1nent, and to the delicate sound Of
flutes. the sins of thu world were passing in
dumb show before him. Things tina he had
dlmly dreamed OF were suddenly made real
to him. Things of which he had never
dreamed were gradually revealed.
1t was a novel without Il plot, and with
only one character, being, indeed, simply q
psychological study of a certain young
Partisan. who spent his life trying to realize
In the nineteenth century all the passions
and modes of thought that belonged to every
century except his own. and to sum up, as
1t WERE, in himself the various moods
through which the world-spirit had ever
passed, loving for their mere artificiality
those renunciations that men have unwisely
called virtue, as much as those natural re-
belllons that wise men still call sin. TIL
style in which it was written was that
curious ieweled style, vivid and obscure at
once, full OF dtyot and of archaisms, of
technical expressions and of elaborate para
phrases, that characterizes the work of some
of the finest artists of the French school of
Decddents. There were in 1t metaphors as
monstrous as orchids, and as evil in color.
The life of the senses was described in the
terms of mystical philosophy. One hardly
knew at lines whether one was reading the
spiritual ecstasies of some medieval saint
or the morbid confessions of a modern sin
ner. 1t was a poisonous book. The heavy
odor of incense seemed to cling about its
pages and to trouble the brain. The mere
cadence of the sentences, the subtle monot-
ony of their music, SO full as it was of com
pick refrains and movements deliberately re-
peated, produced in the mind Of the lad, as
he passed from chapter TO chapter, n form
of %reverie, a malady of dreaming that made
him unconscious of the falling day aud the
creeping shadows.
Cloudless and pierced by one solitary star,
3 copper-green sky cleaned through the
windows. He read on by its wan light
till he could read no more. Then after his
valet had reminded him several times of the
~lateness of the hour, he got up, and, going
into The next room, placed the book on the
little Florentine table that always stood at
his bedside, and began to dress for dinner.
1t was almost nine o'clock before he
reached the club, where he found Lord
Henry sitting alone, i'll the m~orning-room,
looking very bored.
II am so sorry, Harry" he cried, ''but
really it is entirely your fault. That book
you sent me so fascinated me that 1 forgot
what the time was.n
II thought you would like it." replied his
host, rising from his chair.
II didn't say / liked it, Harry. l said it
fascinated me. There is q great difference"
"Ah, if you have discovered that, you have
discovered a great deal,n murmured Lord
Henry, with his curious smile. Come, let
us go in to dinner. 1t is dreadfully late,
and I am afraid the champagne will be too
much iced"
CHAPTER TX.
For years Dorian Gray could not free him