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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... curiosity to have his own hand read , and feeling somewhat shy about putting himself forward , crossed over the room to where Lady Windermere was sitting , and , with a charming blush , asked her if she thought Mr. Podgers.
Oscar Wilde. charming blush , asked her if she thought Mr. Podgers would mind . ' Of course , he won't mind , ' said Lady Windermere , ' that is what he is here for . All my lions , Lord Arthur , are performing lions , and jump through ...
... thought of Sybil Merton, and the idea that anything could come between them made his eyes dim with tears. Looking at him, one would have said that Nemesis had stolen the shield of Pallas, and shown him the Gorgon's head. He seemed ...
... thought he could detect the stain of blood already upon them , and a faint cry broke from his trembling lips . Murder ! that is what the cheiromantist had seen there . Murder ! The very night seemed to know it , and the desolate wind to ...
... thought made him sick with horror. He turned on his heel, and hurried on into the night. Where he went he hardly knew. He had a dim memory of wandering through a labyrinth of sordid houses, of being lost in a giant web of sombre streets ...
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Lord Arthur Savile's Crime: The Portrait of Mr. W.H., and Other Stories Oscar Wilde Úplné zobrazenie - 1914 |