Chapter 13
He passed out of the room and bega, Basil Hallward following close behind. They walked softly, as men do instinctively at night. The lamp cast fantastic shadows on the wall and staircase. A rising wind made some of the windows rattle.
When they reached the top landing, Doriahe lamp down on the floor, and taking out the key, tur in the lock. "You insist on knowing, Basil?" he asked in a low voice.
"Yes."
"I am delighted," he answered, smiling. Then he added, somewhat harshly, "You are the one man in the world who is entitled to know everything about me. You have had more to do with my life than you think"; and, taking up the lamp, he opehe door a in. A cold current of air passed them, and the light shot up for a moment in a flame of murky e. He shuddered. "Shut the door behind you," he whispered, as he placed the lamp oable.
Hallward glanced round him with a puzzled expression. The room looked as if it had not been lived in for years. A faded Flemish tapestry, a curtained picture, an old Italian cassone, and an almost empty book-case--that was all that it seemed to tain, besides a chair and a table. As Dorian Gray was lighting a half-burned dle that was standing on the mantelshelf, he saw that the whole place was covered with dust and that the carpet was in holes. A mouse ran scuffling behind the wainsg. There was a damp odour of mildew.
"So you think that it is only God who sees the soul, Basil? Draw that curtain back, and you will see mine."
The voice that spoke was cold and cruel. "You are mad, Dorian, or playing a part," muttered Hallward, frowning.
"You wont? Then I must do it myself," said the young man, aore the curtain from its rod and flung it on the ground.
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