ndwouldaltermore.Itsgoldwouldwitherintogrey.Itsredandwhiteroseswoulddie.Foreverysinthatheitted,astainwouldfledwreckitsfairness.Buthewouldnotsiure,gedorunged,wouldbetohimthevisibleemblemofsce.Hewouldresisttemptation.HewouldnotseeLordHenryanymore--wouldnot,atanyrate,listentothosesubtlepoisonoustheoriesthatinBasilHallwardsgardenhadfirststirredwithinhimthepassionforimpossiblethings.HewouldgobacktoSibylVane,makeheramends,marryher,trytoloveheragaiwashisdutytodoso.Shemusthavesufferedmorethanhehad.Poorchild!Hehadbeenselfishandcrueltoher.Thefasationthatshehadexercisedoverhimwouldreturn.Theywouldbehappytogether.Hislifewithherwouldbebeautifulandpure.

    Hegotupfromhischairanddrewalargesrightinfrontoftheportrait,shudderingasheglait."Howhorrible!"hemurmuredtohimself,andhewalkedacrosstothewindoe.Wheeppedoutontothegrass,hedrebreath.ThefreshmairseemedtodriveawayallhissombrepassiohoughtonlyofSibyl.Afaintechoofhislovecameba.Herepeatedhernameoverandain.Thebirdsthatweresinginginthedew-drenchedgardeobetellingtheflowersabouther.松语文学Www.16sy.coM免费小说阅读