Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1896-10-10
THE
or DORIAN GRAY.
T e
RI osuAN MILDR.

RI 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
haIne
On reaching the library he found that it
was just after five o'clock. and that the tea
had been already brought up. On q little
table of dark. perfumed wood thickly in
crusted with nacrc, 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
it was a book bound in yellow paper, the
cover slightly torn and The edges soiled. A
copy Of the third edition Of the 81. ,Jdmes's
Gazette had been placed on the t~ea-tray. II
was evident that Victor had returned. He
wondered If he had met the mon in the hall
as they were leaving the house and had
wormed out Of them what they had been do
ing. He would he sure TO miss the picture
had no doubt missed 1t already, while he
had been laying the tcl-thines, The screen
had not been replaced, and the blank space
on the wall vas visible. Perhaps somc
night he might find him creeping upstairs
and trying to force the door Of the room. II
was u horrible thing to have a spy in ones
house. He had heard of rich mel who had
been blackmailcd all their lives by some
servant who had read a letter, on overheard
q conversation, or picked up Il card with an
address, or found beneath n pillow "a
withered flower on u bit OF crumpled lace.
He sighed, and, having poured himself
out some tea, opened Lord Hcury's note.
1t was simply to say that he sent him round
the evening paper, and IA book that might
interest him, and that he would be at the club
at eight-tftoen. He opened the "St. James's'
languidly, and looked languidly through it.
A red pcncil-mark ON the fifth page caught
his eye. He read the following paragraph;
INQUEST ON Az ACTRESS. An inquest was
held this morning AT the Bell Tavern, Hoxtou
Road. 10y Mr.. DANNY. the district coroner, on
the body If Sihyl Nanc, 4 young actress re-
Gently engaged NJ the Royal Thcater, Hulborn,
A verdict o. death 10y misadNpnturc was re-
turned. Considerable sympathy was expressed
for the mother OF the deceased, WHO was great
~ affected during the giving Of her own evil
dence, and that Of DR.. Birrcl. who had made
post-mOrtern examination Of the deceased
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
lllAhaAN lilko AiN az "a ~ llll' ~ W IN
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
nave 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 it
matteri What had Dorian Gray to do with
Sibyl Vane's death There was nothing 70
fear. Dorian Gray had not killed her.
His eye fell on the yellow book that Lord
Henry had sent him. What was il, 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. II seemed to him that in eX
quisite raimcnt, and to the delicate sound of
flutes, the sins of the world were passing IN
dumb show before him. Things that he had
dimly 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 II
psychological study Of IA certain young
Partisan, who spent his life trying to rcali2C
in the nineteenth century all the passions
and modes of thought that belonged to every
century except his own, and to sum up, as
II were, in himself the various moods
through which the world-spirit had ever
passed, loving for their mere artificiality
those renunciations that men AVE unwisely
called virtue, as much as those natural re-
bellions that wise men still call sin. The
style in which it was written was that
curious jewelcd style, vivid and obscure AT
once, full of drgDt and of archaisms, Of
technical expressions and of elaborate para
phrases, that characterzes the work of some
Of the finest artists of the French school of
Dccddents. There were in it 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 times whether one was reading the
spiritual cCstasies of some medieval saint
or the morbid confessions Of a modern sim
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 claborately re-
peated, produced in the mind of the lad, as
he passed from chapter to chapter, a form
of ~rcverie, "A malady of dreaming that made
him unconscious of the falling day aud the
creeping shadows.
Cloudless and pierced by one solitary star,
q 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
l~ateness of the hour, he got up, and. going
into the next room, placed the book on the
little Fiorentine 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, in the morning-room,
looking very bored.
II an so sorry. Harry" he cried, ''but
really it is entirely your fault. That book
you sent me 50 fascinated me that | forgot
what the time was"
II thought you would like it," replied his
host, rising from his chair.
II didn't say / liked it, Harry. / said it
fascinated me. T-ere is a great difference"
"Ah, if you have discovered that, you have
discovered a great DEAL" murmured Lord
Henry, with his curious smile. Come, let
us 90 in to dinner. 1t is drcadfully late,
and l am afraid the champagne will be too
much iced"
CHAPTER TX.
For years Dorian Gray could not free him
self from the memory Of this book. Or per-