the
moment I met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence
over me. I quite admit that I adored you madly, extravagantly, absurdly.
I was jealous of every one to whom you spoke. I wanted to have you all
to myself. I was only happy when I was with you. When I was away from
you, you were still present in my art. It was all wrong and foolish. It
is all wrong and foolish.... I did not understand it myself.... It was
to have been my masterpiece. It is my masterpiece.... But, as I worked
at it, ... (169, 170)

57 "Did you really see it?"

"Of course I did." (172)

58 And now good-by, Dorian. You have been the one person in my life of
whom I have been really fond. I don't suppose I shall often see you
again. You don't know what it cost me to tell you all that I have told
you."(172)

58 But you mustn't talk about not meeting me again, or anything of that
kind. You and I are friends, Basil (173)

CHAPTER VIII (X).

59 Mrs. Leaf, a dear old lady in a black silk dress, with a photograph
of the late Mr. Leaf framed in a large gold brooch at her neck, and
old-fashioned thread mittens on her wrinkled hands, bustled into the
room.

"Well, Master Dorian," she said, "what can I do for you? I beg your
pardon, sir,"--here came a courtsey,--"I shouldn't call you Master
Dorian, any more. But, Lord bless you, sir, I have known you since you
were a baby, and many's the tricks you've played on poor old Leaf. Not
that you were not always a good boy, sir; but boys will be boys, Master
Dorian, and jam is a temptation to the young, isn't it, sir?"

He laughed. "You must always call me Master Dorian, Leaf. I will be very
angry with you if you don't. And I assure you I am quite as fond of jam
now as I used to be. Only when I am asked out to tea I am never offered
any. I want you to give me the key of the room at the top of the house."
(175)

59 He winced at the mention of his dead uncle's name.... "That does not
matter, Leaf," he replied, "All I want is the key."(176)

59 "No, Leaf, I don't. I merely want to see the place, and perhaps store
something in it,--that is all. Thank you, Leaf. I hope your rheumatism
is better; and mind you send me up jam for breakfast."

Mrs. Leaf shook her head. "Them foreigners doesn't understand jam,
Master Dorian. They call's it 'compot'. But I'll bring it to you myself
some morning, if you lets me."

"That will be very kind of you, Leaf, he answered, looking at the key;
and, having