CHAPTER XX

It was a lovely night, so warm that he threw his coat over his arm and did not even put his silk scarf round his…

CHAPTER XIX

“There is no use your telling me that you are going to be good,” cried Lord Henry, dipping his white fingers into a red copper…

CHAPTER XVIII

The next day he did not leave the house, and, indeed, spent most of the time in his own room, sick with a wild terror…

CHAPTER XVII

A week later Dorian Gray was sitting in the conservatory at Selby Royal, talking to the pretty Duchess of Monmouth, who with her husband, a…

CHAPTER XVI

A cold rain began to fall, and the blurred street-lamps looked ghastly in the dripping mist. The public-houses were just closing, and dim men and…

CHAPTER XV

That evening, at eight-thirty, exquisitely dressed and wearing a large button-hole of Parma violets, Dorian Gray was ushered into Lady Narborough’s drawing-room by bowing servants.…

CHAPTER XIV

At nine o’clock the next morning his servant came in with a cup of chocolate on a tray and opened the shutters. Dorian was sleeping…

CHAPTER XIII

He passed out of the room and began the ascent, Basil Hallward following close behind. They walked softly, as men do instinctively at night. The…

CHAPTER XII

It was on the ninth of November, the eve of his own thirty-eighth birthday, as he often remembered afterwards. He was walking home about eleven…

CHAPTER XI

For years, Dorian Gray could not free himself from the influence of this book. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that he…