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"I shall be charmed. But won't you miss your train?" said Dorian

Gray languidly as he passed up the steps and opened the door with

his latch-key.

The lamplight struggled out through the fog, and Hallward looked

at his watch. "I have heaps of time," he answered. "The train

doesn't go till twelve-fifteen, and it is only just eleven. In

fact, I was on my way to the club to look for you, when I met

you. You see, I shan't have any delay about luggage, as I have

sent on my heavy things. All I have with me is in this bag, and I

can easily get to Victoria in twenty minutes."

Dorian looked at him and smiled. "What a way for a fashionable

painter to travel! A Gladstone bag and an ulster! Come in, or the

fog will get into the house. And mind you don't talk about

anything serious. Nothing is serious nowadays. At least nothing

should be."