dnotbeenfulfilled?Suchthingswereimpossible.Itseemedmonstrouseventothinkofthem.Aherewasthepicturebeforehim,withthetouchofcrueltyih.

    Cruelty!Hadhebeewasthegirlsfault,nothis.Hehaddreamedreatartist,hadgivenhislovetoherbecausehehadthoughthergreat.Thenshehaddisappointedhim.Shehadbeenshallowandunworthy.A,afeelingofinfiniteregretcameoverhim,ashethoughtofherlyingathisfeetsobbinglikealittlechild.Herememberedwithwhatcallousnesshehadwatchedher.Whyhadhebeenmadelikethat?Whyhadsuchasoulbeeohim?Buthehadsufferedalsthethreeterriblehoursthattheplayhadlasted,hehadlivedturiesofpain,aeonuponaeonoftorture.Hislifeorthhers.Shehadmarredhimforamoment,ifhehadwoundedherfe.Besides,womeersuitedtobearsorrowthaheylivedontheiremotions.Theyonlythoughtoftheiremotions.Wheooklovers,itwasmerelytohavesomeohwhomtheycouldhaveses.LordHenryhadtoldhimthat,andLordHenrykneomenwere.WhyshouldhetroubleaboutSibylVane?Shewasnothingtohimnow.

    Butthepicture?Whatwashetosayofthat?Itheldthesecretofhislife,andtoldhisstory.Ithadtaughthimtolovehisowy.Woulditteachhimtoloathehisownsoul?Wouldheeverlookatitagain?

    No;itwasmerelyanillusihtoroubledsehehorriblenightthathehadpassedhadleftphantomsbehindit.Suddenlytherehadfallenuponhisbrainthattinyscarletspeckthatmakesmenmad.Thepicturehadnotged.Itwasfollytothinkso.

    Yetitwaswatghim,withitsbeautifulmarredfaditscruelsmile.Itsbrighthairgleamedintheearlysunlight.Itsblueeyesmethisown.Asenseofinfiy,notforhimself,butforthepaintedimageofhimself,cameoverhim.Ithadalteredalready,a