ntheprowofAdriansbarge,gazingacrossthegreenturbidNile.YouhadleanedoverthestillpoolofsomeGreekwoodlandahewaterssilentsilverthemarvelofyourownfadithadallbeenwhatartshouldbe--unscious,ideal,ae.Oneday,afataldayIsometimesthink,Idetermiopaintawonderfulportraitofyouasyouactuallyare,notiumeofdeadages,butinyourowndressandinyourowntime.Whetheritwastherealismofthemethod,orthemerewonderofyourownpersonality,thusdirectlypreseomewithoutmistorveil,Iottell.ButIknowthatasIworkedatit,everyflakeandfilmofcolourseemedtometorevealmysecret.Igrewafraidthatotherswouldknowofmyidolatry.Ifelt,Dorian,thatIhadtoldtoomuch,thatIhadputtoomuyselfintoit.ThenitwasthatIresolvedoallowthepicturetobeexhibited.Youwerealittleannoyed;butthenyoudidnotrealizeallthatitmeanttome.Harry,towhomItalkedaboutit,laughedatme.ButIdidnotmindthat.Wheurewasfinished,andIsatalohit,IfeltthatIwasright....Well,afterafewdaysthethimystudio,andassoonasIhadgotridoftheintolerablefasationofitspreseseemedtomethatIhadbeenfoolishinimaginingthatIhadseenanythinginit,morethanthatyouwereextremelygood-lookingandthatIcouldpaint.EvennowIothelpfeelingthatitisamistaketothinkthatthepassiononefeelsiioniseverreallyshownintheworkoes.Artisalwaysmoreabstractthanwefanandcolourtellusofformandcolour--thatisall.Itofteomethatartcealstheartistfarmorepletelythaniteverrevealshim.AndsowhenIgotthisofferfromParis,Idetermiomakeyourportraittheprincipalthinginmyexhibition.Itneveroccurredtomethatyouwouldrefuse.Iseenowthatyht.Thepictureotbeshown.Youmustnotbeangrywithme,Dorian,fo