صفحة 315 من 490

On his return he would sit in front of the picture, sometimes

loathing it and himself, but filled, at other times, with that

pride of individualism that is half the fascination of sin, and

smiling with secret pleasure at the misshapen shadow that had to

bear the burden that should have been his own.

After a few years he could not endure to be long out of England,

and gave up the villa that he had shared at Trouville with Lord

Henry, as well as the little white walled-in house at Algiers

where they had more than once spent the winter. He hated to be

separated from the picture that was such a part of his life, and

was also afraid that during his absence some one might gain

access to the room, in spite of the elaborate bars that he had

caused to be placed upon the door.