there was a cry heard; and a crash。 the cry was so horrible in its agony that the frightened servants woke and crept out of their rooms。 two gentlemen; who were passing in the square below; stopped and looked up at the great house。 they walked on till they met a policeman and brought him back。 the man rang the bell several times; but there was no answer。 except for a light in one of the top windows; the house was all dark。 after a time; he went away and stood in an adjoining portico and watched。
〃whose house is that; constable?〃 asked the elder of the two gentlemen。
〃mr。 dorian grays; sir;〃 answered the policeman。
they looked at each other; as they walked away; and sneered。 one of them was sir henry ashtons uncle。
inside; in the servants part of the house; the half…clad domestics were talking in low whispers to each other。 old mrs。 leaf was crying and wringing her hands。 francis was as pale as death。
after about a quarter of an hour; he got the coachman and one of the footmen and crept upstairs。 they knocked; but there was no reply。 they called out。 everything was still。 finally; after vainly trying to force the door; they got on the roof and dropped down on to the balcony。 the windows yielded easilytheir bolts were old。
when they entered; they found hanging upon the wall a splendid portrait of their master as they had last seen him; in all the wonder of his exquisite youth and beauty。 lying on the floor was a dead man; in evening dress; with a knife in his heart。 he was withered; wrinkled; and loathsome of visage。 it was not till they had examined the rings that they recognized who it was。
the end
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