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"Why have you stopped playing, Dorian? Go back and give me the

nocturne over again. Look at that great, honey-coloured moon that

hangs in the dusky air. She is waiting for you to charm her, and

if you play she will come closer to the earth. You won't? Let us

go to the club, then. It has been a charming evening, and we must

end it charmingly. There is some one at White's who wants

immensely to know you-young Lord Poole, Bournemouth's eldest son.

He has already copied your neckties, and has begged me to

introduce him to you. He is quite delightful and rather reminds

me of you."

"I hope not," said Dorian with a sad look in his eyes. "But I am

tired to-night, Harry. I shan't go to the club. It is nearly

eleven, and I want to go to bed early."

"Do stay. You have never played so well as to-night. There was

something in your touch that was wonderful. It had more

expression than I had ever heard from it before."