a restaurant. How could I admire her? But tell me, what did she say about Mr. Dorian Gray?”
“Oh, something like, ‘Charming boy–poor dear mother and I absolutely inseparable. Quite forget what he does–afraid he–doesn’t do anything–oh, yes, plays the piano–or is it the violin, dear Mr. Gray?’ Neither of us could help laughing, and we became friends at once.”
“Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is far the best ending for one,” said the young lord, plucking another daisy.










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