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It was long past noon when he awoke. His valet had crept several

times on tiptoe into the room to see if he was stirring, and had

wondered what made his young master sleep so late. Finally his

bell sounded, and Victor came in softly with a cup of tea, and a

pile of letters, on a small tray of old Sevres china, and drew

back the olive-satin curtains, with their shimmering blue lining,

that hung in front of the three tall windows.

"Monsieur has well slept this morning," he said, smiling.

"What o'clock is it, Victor?" asked Dorian Gray drowsily.

"One hour and a quarter, Monsieur."