Page 425 sur 490

The woman gave a bitter laugh. "Little more than a boy!" she

sneered. "Why, man, it's nigh on eighteen years since Prince

Charming made me what I am."

"You lie!" cried James Vane.

She raised her hand up to heaven. "Before God I am telling the

truth," she cried.

"Before God?"

"Strike me dumb if it ain't so. He is the worst one that comes

here. They say he has sold himself to the devil for a pretty

face. It's nigh on eighteen years since I met him. He hasn't

changed much since then. I have, though," she added, with a

sickly leer.

"You swear this?"

"I swear it," came in hoarse echo from her flat mouth. "But don't

give me away to him," she whined; "I am afraid of him. Let me

have some money for my night's lodging."

He broke from her with an oath and rushed to the corner of the

street, but Dorian Gray had disappeared. When he looked back, the

woman had vanished also.

CHAPTER XVII.