Chapter11

    Foryears,Draycouldnotfreehimselffromtheinfluehisbook.Orperhapsitwouldbemoreaccuratetosaythatheneversoughttofreehimselffromit.HeprocuredfromParishanninelarge-papercopiesofthefirstedition,andhadthemboundindifferentcolours,sothattheymightsuithisvariousmoodsandthegingfanciesofanatureoverwhichheseemed,attimes,tohavealmostentirelylosttrol.Thehero,thewonderfulyoungParisianinwhomtheromantidthestifictemperamentswereselyblended,becametohimakinduringtypeofhimself.And,ihewholebookseemedtohimtotaioryofhisownlife,writtenbeforehehadlivedit.

    Inonepointhewasmorefortuhanthenovelsfantastichero.Heneverknew--never,indeed,hadanycausetoknow--thatsomewhatgrotesquedreadofmirrors,andpolishedmetalsurfaces,andstillwaterwhichcameupontheyoungParisiansoearlyinhislife,andwasoccasiohesuddendecayofabeauthathadonce,apparently,beensoremarkable.Itwaswithanalmostcrueljoy--andperhapsinnearlyeveryjoy,ascertainlyineverypleasure,crueltyhasitsplace--thatheusedtoreadthelatterpartofthebook,withitsreallytragic,ifsomewhatoveremphasized,atofthesorrowanddespairofonewhohadhimselflostwhatinothers,andtheworld,hehadmostdearlyvalued.

    ForthewonderfulbeautythathadsofasatedBasilHallward,andmanyothersbesideshim,seemedoleavehim.Eventhosewhohadheardthemostevilthingsagainsthim--andfromtimetotimestrangerumoursabouthismodeoflifecreptthroughLondonandbecamethechatteroftheclubs--couldnotbelieveanythingtohisdishonourwhentheysawhim.Hehadalwaysthelookofonethimselfunspottedfromtheworld.Menwhotalkedgrosslybecam