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I know now that I was quite right in what I fancied about him.

His life is dreadful. But you, Dorian, with your pure, bright,

innocent face, and your marvellous untroubled youth-I can't

believe anything against you. And yet I see you very seldom, and

you never come down to the studio now, and when I am away from

you, and I hear all these hideous things that people are

whispering about you, I don't know what to say. Why is it,

Dorian, that a man like the Duke of Berwick leaves the room of a

club when you enter it? Why is it that so many gentlemen in

London will neither go to your house or invite you to theirs? You

used to be a friend of Lord Staveley. I met him at dinner last

week. Your name happened to come up in conversation, in

connection with the miniatures you have lent to the exhibition at

the Dudley.