CHAPTER XVI.

Acoldrainbegantofall,andtheblurredstreet-lampslookedghastlyinthedrippingmist.Thepublic-houseswerejustclosing,anddimmenandwomenwereclusteringinbrokengroupsroundtheirdoors.Fromsomeofthebarscamethesoundofhorriblelaughter.Inothers,drunkardsbrawledandscreamed. Lyingbackinthehansom,withhishatpulledoverhisforehead,DorianGraywatchedwithlistlesseyesthesordidshameofthegreatcity,andnowandthenherepeatedtohimselfthewordsthatLordHenryhadsaidtohimonthefirstdaytheyhadmet,“Tocurethesoulbymeansofthesenses,andthesensesbymeansofthesoul.”Yes,thatwasthesecret.Hehadoftentriedit,andwouldtryitagainnow.Therewereopiumdenswhereonecouldbuyoblivion,densofhorrorwherethememoryofoldsinscouldbedestroyedbythemadnessofsinsthatwerenew. Themoonhunglowintheskylikeayellowskull.Fromtimetotimeahugemisshapencloudstretchedalongarmacrossandhidit.Thegas-lampsgrewfewer,andthestreetsmorenarrowandgloomy.Oncethemanlosthiswayandhadtodrivebackhalfamile.Asteamrosefromthehorseasitsplashedupthepuddles.Thesidewindowsofthehansomwerecloggedwithagrey-flannelmist. “Tocurethesoulbymeansofthesenses,andthesensesbymeansofthesoul!”Howthewordsranginhisears!Hissoul,certainly,wassicktodeath.Wasittruethatthesensescouldcureit?Innocentbloodhadbeenspilled.Whatcouldatoneforthat?Ah!forthattherewasnoatonementbutthoughforgivenesswasimpossible,forgetfulnesswaspossiblestill,andhewasdeterminedtoforget,tostampthethingout,tocrushitasonewouldcrushtheadderthathadstungone.Indeed,whatrighthadBasiltohavespokentohimashehaddone?Whohadmadehimajudgeoverothers?Hehadsaidthingsthatweredreadful,horrible,nottobeendured. Onandonploddedthehansom,goingslower,itseemedtohim,ateachstep.Hethrustupthetrapandcalledtothemantodrivefaster.Thehideoushungerforopiumbegantognawathim.Histhroatburnedandhisdelicatehandstwitchednervouslytogether.Hestruckatthehorsemadlywithhisstick.Thedriverlaughedandwhippedup.Helaughedinanswer,andthemanwassilent. Thewayseemedinterminable,andthestreetsliketheblackwebofsomesprawlingspider.Themonotonybecameunbearable,andasthemistthickened,hefeltafraid. Thentheypassedbylonelybrickfields.Thefogwaslighterhere,andhecouldseethestrange,bottle-shapedkilnswiththeirorange,fanliketonguesoffire.Adogbarkedastheywentby,andfarawayinthedarknesssomewanderingsea-gullscreamed.Thehorsestumbledinarut,thenswervedasideandbrokeintoagallop. Aftersometimetheylefttheclayroadandrattledagainoverrough-pavenstreets.Mostofthewindowsweredark,butnowandthenfantasticshadowsweresilhouettedagainstsomelamplitblind.Hewatchedthemcuriously.Theymovedlikemonstrousmarionettesandmadegestureslikelivethings.Hehatedthem.Adullragewasinhisheart.Astheyturnedacorner,awomanyelledsomethingatthemfromanopendoor,andtwomenranafterthehansomforaboutahundredyards.Thedriverbeatatthemwithhiswhip. Itissaidthatpassionmakesonethinkinacircle.Certain