n."
"They are practical."
"They are more cunning than practical. When they make up their ledger,
they balance stupidity by wealth, and vice by hypocrisy."
"Still, we have done great things."
"Great things have been thrust on us, Gladys."
"We have carried their burden."
"Only as far as the Stock Exchange."
She shook her head. "I believe in the race," she cried.
"It represents the survival of the pushing."
"It has development."
"Decay fascinates me more."
"What of Art?" she asked.
"It is a malady."
"Love?"
"An illusion."
"Religion?"
"The fashionable substitute for Belief."
"You are a sceptic."
"Never! Scepticism is the beginning of Faith."
"What are you?"
"To define is to limit."
"Give me a clue."
"Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth."
"You bewilder me. Let us talk of someone else."
"Our host is a delightful topic. Years ago he was christened Prince
Charming."
"Ah! don't remind me of that," cried Dorian Gray.
"Our host is rather horrid this evening," answered the Duchess,
colouring. "I believe he thinks that Monmouth married me on purely
scientific principles as the best specimen he could find of a modern
butterfly."
"Well, I hope he won't stick pins into you, Duchess," laughed Dorian.
"Oh! my maid does that already, Mr. Gray, when she is annoyed with me."
"And what does she get annoyed with you about, Duchess?"
"For the most trivial things, Mr. Gray, I assure you. Usually because I
come in at ten minutes to nine and tell her that I must be dressed by
half-past eight."
"How unreasonable of her! You should give her warning."
"I daren't, Mr. Gray. Why, she invents hats for me. You remember the one
I wore at Lady Hilstone's garden-party? You don't, but it is nice of you
to pretend that you do. Well, she made it out of nothing. All good hats
are made out of nothing."
"Like all good reputations, Gladys," interrupted Lord Henry. "Every
effect that one produces gives one an enemy. To be popular one must be a
mediocrity."
"Not with women," said the Duchess, shaking her head; "and women rule
the world. I assure you we can't bear mediocrities. We women, as someone
says, love with our ears, just as you men love with your eyes, if you
ever love at all."
"It seems to me that we never do anything else," murmured Dorian.
"Ah! then, you never really love, Mr. Gray," answered the Duchess, with
mock sadness.
"My dear Gladys!" cried
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