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"Oh! anything becomes a pleasure if one does it too often," cried

Lord Henry, laughing. "That is one of the most important secrets

of life. I should fancy, however, that murder is always a

mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk about

after dinner. But let us pass from poor Basil. I wish I could

believe that he had come to such a really romantic end as you

suggest, but I can't. I dare say he fell into the Seine off an

omnibus and that the conductor hushed up the scandal. Yes: I

should fancy that was his end. I see him lying now on his back

under those dull-green waters, with the heavy barges floating

over him and long weeds catching in his hair. Do you know, I

don't think he would have done much more good work. During the

last ten years his painting had gone off very much."