As Dorian hurried up its three rickety steps, the heavy odour of opium met him.

He heaved a deep breath, and his nostrils quivered with pleasure.

When he entered, a young man with smooth yellow hair, who was bending over a lamp lighting a long thin pipe, looked up at him and nodded in a hesitating manner.
"You here, Adrian ?" muttered Dorian.
"Where else should I be ?" he answered, listlessly.

"None of the chaps will speak to me now." "I thought you had left England." "Darlington is not going to do anything.

My brother paid the bill at last.