Lord Arthur Savile's Crime谷月社, 30. 10. 2015 It was Lady Windermere’s last reception before Easter, and Bentinck House was even more crowded than usual. Six Cabinet Ministers had come on from the Speaker’s Levée in their stars and ribands, all the pretty women wore their smartest dresses, and at the end of the picture-gallery stood the Princess Sophia of Carlsrühe, a heavy Tartar-looking lady, with tiny black eyes and wonderful emeralds, talking bad French at the top of her voice, and laughing immoderately at everything that was said to her. It was certainly a wonderful medley of people. Gorgeous peeresses chatted affably to violent Radicals, popular preachers brushed coat-tails with eminent sceptics, a perfect bevy of bishops kept following a stout prima-donna from room to room, on the staircase stood several Royal Academicians, disguised as artists, and it was said that at one time the supper-room was absolutely crammed with geniuses. In fact, it was one of Lady Windermere’s best nights, and the Princess stayed till nearly half-past eleven. As soon as she had gone, Lady Windermere returned to the picture-gallery, where a celebrated political economist was solemnly explaining the scientific theory of music to an indignant virtuoso from Hungary, and began to talk to the Duchess of Paisley. She looked wonderfully beautiful with her grand ivory throat, her large blue forget-me-not eyes, and her heavy coils of golden hair....
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... became a white mask of horror, but he soon recovered his sangfroid, and looking up at Lady Windermere, said with a forced smile, 'It is the hand of a charming young man. 'Of course it is!' answered Lady Windermere, 'but will he be a ...
... became conscious of the terrible mystery of Destiny, of the awful meaning of Doom. How mad and monstrous it all seemed! Could it be that written on his hand, in characters that he could not read himself, but that another could decipher ...
... became dull again. 'Guineas?' said Mr. Podgers at last, in a low voice. 'Certainly. I will send you a cheque tomorrow. What is your club?' 'I have no club. That is to say, not just at present. My address is—, but allow me to give you my ...
... became anxious about Lady Clementina, and, in spite of Surbiton's remonstrances, came back to Venice by train. As he stepped out of his gondola on to the hotel steps, the proprietor came forward to meet him with a sheaf of telegrams ...
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CHAPTER VI | |
A HYLOIDEALISTIC ROMANCE | |
CHAPTER I | |
CHAPTER IV | |
THE PORTRAIT OF MR W H CHAPTER I | |
CHAPTER II | |
CHAPTER III | |