Chapter 9
As he was sitting at breakfast m, Basil Hallward was shown into the room.
"I am so glad I have found you, Dorian," he said gravely. "I called last night, and they told me you were at the opera. Of course, I khat was impossible. But I wish you had left word where you had really goo. I passed a dreadful evening, half afraid that edy might be followed by another. I think you might have telegraphed for me when you heard of it first. I read of it quite by a late edition of The Globe that I picked up at the club. I came here at ond was miserable at not finding you. I t tell you how heart-broken I am about the whole thing. I know what you must suffer. But where were you? Did you go down ahe girls mother? For a moment I thought of following you there. They gave the address in the paper. Somewhere in the Euston Road, isnt it? But I was afraid of intruding upon a sorrow that I could not lighten. Poor woman! What a state she must be in! And her only child, too! What did she say about it all?"
"My dear Basil, how do I kno;quot; murmured Dorian Gray, sipping some pale-yellow wine from a delicate, gold-beaded bubble of Veian glass and looking dreadfully bored. "I was at the opera. You should have e on there. I met Lady Gwendolen, Harrys sister, for the first time. We were in her box. She is perfectly charming; and Patti sang divinely. Dont talk about horrid subjects. If one doesnt talk about a thing, it has never happened. It is simply expression, as Harry says, that gives reality to things. I may mention that she was not the womans only child. There is a son, a charming fellow, I believe. But he is not oage. He is a sailor, or something. And now, tell me about yourself and what you are painting."
"You went to the opera?" said Hallward, speaking very slowly and with a straiouch of pain in his voice. "