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, Dorian set the lamp down on the floor, and taking out the key turned it 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 opened the door and went in. A cold current of air passed them, and the light shot up for a moment in a flame of murky orange. He shuddered. ‘Shut the door behind you,’ he whispered, as he placed the lamp on the table. 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 bookcase – that was all that it seemed to contain, besides a chair and a table.
What do You think about The Picture Of Dorian Gray?
