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Of course, I am very fond of Harry. But I know that you are

better than he is. You are not stronger-you are too much afraid

of life-but you are better. And how happy we used to be together!

Don't leave me, Basil, and don't quarrel with me. I am what I am.

There is nothing more to be said."

The painter felt strangely moved. The lad was infinitely dear to

him, and his personality had been the great turning point in his

art. He could not bear the idea of reproaching him any more.

After all, his indifference was probably merely a mood that would

pass away. There was so much in him that was good, so much in him

that was noble.

"Well, Dorian," he said at length, with a sad smile, "I won't

speak to you again about this horrible thing, after to-day. I

only trust your name won't be mentioned in connection with it.

The inquest is to take place this afternoon. Have they summoned

you?"