"What are you looking for ?" she inquired.
"The button from your foil," he answered.

"You have dropped it." She laughed.

"I have still the mask." "It makes your eyes lovelier," was his reply.
She laughed again.

Her teeth showed like white seeds in a scarlet fruit.
Upstairs, in his own room, Dorian Gray was lying on a sofa, with terror in every tingling fibre of his body.

Life had suddenly become too hideous a burden for him to bear.