CHAPTER XIX.
關燈
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中
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tlittlebitofself-sacrificeIhaveeverknown,isreallyasortofsin.Iwanttobebetter.Iamgoingtobebetter.Tellmesomethingaboutyourself.Whatisgoingonintown?Ihavenotbeentotheclubfordays.”
“ThepeoplearestilldiscussingpoorBasil’sdisappearance.”
“Ishouldhavethoughttheyhadgottiredofthatbythistime,”saidDorian,pouringhimselfoutsomewineandfrowningslightly.
“Mydearboy,theyhaveonlybeentalkingaboutitforsixweeks,andtheBritishpublicarereallynotequaltothementalstrainofhavingmorethanonetopiceverythreemonths.Theyhavebeenveryfortunatelately,however.Theyhavehadmyowndivorce-caseandAlanCampbell’ssuicide.Nowtheyhavegotthemysteriousdisappearanceofanartist.ScotlandYardstillinsiststhatthemaninthegreyulsterwholeftforParisbythemidnighttrainontheninthofNovemberwaspoorBasil,andtheFrenchpolicedeclarethatBasilneverarrivedinParisatall.IsupposeinaboutafortnightweshallbetoldthathehasbeenseeninSanFrancisco.Itisanoddthing,buteveryonewhodisappearsissaidtobeseenatSanFrancisco.Itmustbeadelightfulcity,andpossessalltheattractionsofthenextworld.”
“WhatdoyouthinkhashappenedtoBasil?”askedDorian,holdinguphisBurgundyagainstthelightandwonderinghowitwasthathecoulddiscussthemattersocalmly.
“Ihavenottheslightestidea.IfBasilchoosestohidehimself,itisnobusinessofmine.Ifheisdead,Idon’twanttothinkabouthim.Deathistheonlythingthateverterrifiesme.Ihateit.”
“Why?”saidtheyoungermanwearily.
“Because,”saidLordHenry,passingbeneathhisnostrilsthegilttrellisofanopenvinaigrettebox,“onecansurviveeverythingnowadaysexceptthat.Deathandvulgarityaretheonlytwofactsinthenineteenthcenturythatonecannotexplainaway.Letushaveourcoffeeinthemusic-room,Dorian.YoumustplayChopintome.ThemanwithwhommywiferanawayplayedChopinexquisitely.PoorVictoria!Iwasveryfondofher.Thehouseisratherlonelywithouther.Ofcourse,marriedlifeismerelyahabit,abadhabit.Butthenoneregretsthelossevenofone’sworsthabits.Perhapsoneregretsthemthemost.Theyaresuchanessentialpartofone’spersonality.”
Doriansaidnothing,butrosefromthetable,andpassingintothenextroom,satdowntothepianoandlethisfingersstrayacrossthewhiteandblackivoryofthekeys.Afterthecoffeehadbeenbroughtin,hestopped,andlookingoveratLordHenry,said,“Harry,diditeveroccurtoyouthatBasilwasmurdered?”
LordHenryyawned.“Basilwasverypopular,andalwaysworeaWaterburywatch.Whyshouldhehavebeenmurdered?Hewasnotcleverenoughtohaveenemies.Ofcourse,hehadawonderfulgeniusforpainting.ButamancanpaintlikeVelasquezandyetbeasdullaspossible.Basilwasreallyratherdull.Heonlyinterestedmeonce,andthatwaswhenhetoldme,yearsago,thathehadawildadorationforyouandthatyouwerethedominantmotiveofhisart.”
“IwasveryfondofBasil,”saidDorianwithanoteofsadnessinhisvoice.“Butdon’tpeoplesaythathewasmurdered?”
“Oh,someofthepapersdo.Itdoesnotseemtometobeatallprobable.IknowtherearedreadfulplacesinParis,butBasilwasnotthesortofmantohavegonetothem.Hehadnocuriosity.Itwashischiefdefect.”
“Whatwouldyousay,Harry,ifItoldyouthatIhadmurderedBasil?”saidtheyoungerman.Hewatchedhimintentlyafterhehadspoken.
“Iwouldsay,mydearfellow,thatyouwereposingforacharacterthatdoesn’tsuityou.Allcrimeisvulgar,justasallvulgarityiscrime.Itisnotinyou,Dorian,tocommitamurder.IamsorryifIhurtyo
