Dorian Gray listened, open-eyed and wondering. The spray of lilac fell from his hand upon the gravel. A furry bee came and buzzed round it for a moment. Then it began to scramble all over the oval stellated globe of the tiny blossoms.

• Suddenly the painter appeared
• at the door of the studio and made
• staccato signs for them to come in

“I am waiting,” he cried. “Do come in. The light is quite perfect, and you can bring your drinks.”