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Автор: Oscar Wilde

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A low moan broke from her, and she flung herself at his feet and
lay there like a trampled flower. "Dorian, Dorian, don't leave
me!" she whispered. "I am so sorry I didn't act well. I was
thinking of you all the time. But I will try-indeed, I will try.
It came so suddenly across me, my love for you. I think I should
never have known it if you had not kissed me-if we had not kissed
each other. Kiss me again, my love. Don't go away from me. I
couldn't bear it. Oh! don't go away from me. My brother ... No;
never mind. He didn't mean it. He was in jest.... But you, oh!
can't you forgive me for to-night? I will work so hard and try to
improve. Don't be cruel to me, because I love you better than
anything in the world. After all, it is only once that I have not
pleased you. But you are quite right, Dorian. I should have shown
myself more of an artist. It was foolish of me, and yet I
couldn't help it. Oh, don't leave me, don't leave me." A fit of
passionate sobbing choked her.

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