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"You are mad, I tell you-mad to imagine that I would raise a

finger to help you, mad to make this monstrous confession. I will

have nothing to do with this matter, whatever it is. Do you think

I am going to peril my reputation for you? What is it to me what

devil's work you are up to?"

"It was suicide, Alan."

"I am glad of that. But who drove him to it? You, I should

fancy."

"Do you still refuse to do this for me?"

"Of course I refuse. I will have absolutely nothing to do with

it. I don't care what shame comes on you. You deserve it all. I

should not be sorry to see you disgraced, publicly disgraced. How

dare you ask me, of all men in the world, to mix myself up in

this horror? I should have thought you knew more about people's

characters. Your friend Lord Henry Wotton can't have taught you

much about psychology, whatever else he has taught you. Nothing

will induce me to stir a step to help you. You have come to the

wrong man. Go to some of your friends. Don't come to me."