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The drowsy sailor leaped to his feet as she spoke, and looked

wildly round. The sound of the shutting of the hall door fell on

his ear. He rushed out as if in pursuit.

Dorian Gray hurried along the quay through the drizzling rain.

His meeting with Adrian Singleton had strangely moved him, and he

wondered if the ruin of that young life was really to be laid at

his door, as Basil Hallward had said to him with such infamy of

insult. He bit his lip, and for a few seconds his eyes grew sad.

Yet, after all, what did it matter to him? One's days were too

brief to take the burden of another's errors on one's shoulders.

Each man lived his own life and paid his own price for living it.

The only pity was one had to pay so often for a single fault. One

had to pay over and over again, indeed. In her dealings with man,

destiny never closed her accounts.