The Wolf of Dorian Gray - A Werewolf Spawned by the Evil of Man

Chapter 17 - Whispered Conversations

Several days later, Dorian took his Hyson green tea in the drawing room and began reading the evening paper. He was shocked at what he saw on the fifth page of The St. James:

INQUEST ON AN ACTRESS.—An inquest was held this morning at the Bell Tavern, Hoxton Road, by Mr. Marlow, the District Coroner, on the body of Sibyl Vane, a young actress recently engaged at the Royal Theatre, Holborn. An open verdict was returned as the cause of death is still being investigated. Considerable sympathy was expressed for the mother of the deceased, who was greatly affected during the giving of her own evidence, and that of Dr. Ashford, who made the post-mortem examination of the deceased.

The paper was filled with an unusually large number of inquests resulting in verdicts of murder, manslaughter, or with undetermined cause of death. It appeared that Jack the Ripper and the High Rip Gang were growing increasingly out-of-hand and the authorities were powerless against them. Several pages also decried the recent rise in attacks on farm animals in the surrounding areas. The suspected culprit was a feral pack of Bulldogs which were running wild and terrorizing the countryside.

He grimaced, tore the paper in two, and flung the pieces away. How horrid the whole matter was. But at least no one suspected his involvement. What had Dorian Gray to do with her death? He had not been the one that had killed her.

As was to be expected, the inquest came to nothing. Everyone moved forward with their lives as did the ever-changing seasons. Dorian glorified in the experiences of life and the many pleasures that it had to offer him. Whenever a strange rumor about his conduct surfaced in the chatter of London clubs, it was quickly dismissed and explained away by those who saw his perfect, unblemished face.

Those who spoke evil against Dorian Gray fell silent whenever he entered the room. The unassailable purity of his visage provided the strongest rebuke that could be made. His very demeanor recalled a memory of innocence and replaced the tarnished one which flew behind closed doors like a specter of whispered conversations. It caused bewilderment that one so charming and graceful could so elegantly escape the stain of age. He was immune to the growing dread that others felt amongst all the violence and uncertainty.

Those who thought themselves his friends increasingly noticed Dorian's disappearances, leaving them to ruminate on the cause of such mysterious and prolonged absences. The nature of these forays gave rise to much conjecture by all in society. Upon returning, Dorian would creep upstairs to the locked room. He could often be seen wearing a key on a fashioned silver chain around his neck. These days it never left his sight. He would stand in front of the portrait that Sage had painted and stare at it for hours. He grew more enamored of his own beauty and more intrigued in the corruption of his own soul.

Many a sleepless night passed in his delicately scented bedchamber, or in some fetid, sordid room of a tavern by the docks. He would think on the ruin that he had brought upon his soul and the curiosity of life—which increased with each gratification he indulged in. The more knowledge he possessed, the more he desired. He had taken to using assumed names and disguises when he frequented various dens of iniquity so that his secrets could stay just that. But his mad hungers continued to grow more ravenous the more that they were fed.

He would try to strike a sort of balance. Once or twice a week, Dorian would open his elegant home to the world and throw lavish parties. He invited the most celebrated musicians and renowned artists. Lady Helena was always quick to assist in any preparations that were needed. An invitation to such an event was most coveted. This was particularly the case among the very young women who viewed Dorian Gray as the ultimate realization of scholarly culture and distinction. To them he was a true citizen of the world.

His fancy dictated all the hottest trends in the arts and fashion. His uncommon mode of dress and unique style could be marked on all the young exquisites of the Mayfair balls. They copied him in club windows in every way—yet they always fell half-short when trying to reproduce his accidental charm and unintentional grace.

He began to gather to himself all things of beauty and rarity. This included alluring jewels, delicate silks, sophisticated perfumes, rare works of art, exquisite furniture, renowned musical instruments, ancient manuscripts, archaic scrolls, imported pieces from faraway lands, coveted textile and embroidered works, rich tapestries, faded frescoes, and all types of lattice and vermilion and gold. These he pursued with gusto and lost himself in the pursuit.

He would have some measure of joy for a short time, as he examined a new item that he had come to possess. But always Dorian would grow saddened by thinking of the ruin that time would bring to these beautiful and wondrous things. Somehow he had managed to escape the effects of time. They would fade and turn to dust while he remained the same. Summer followed summer, the nights of horror and degradation repeated—but he was always unchanged.

After Dorian passed his thirty-fifth year, curious accounts of his activities began to emerge. These placed him in company with shifty sailors, wanted thieves, and deceitful coiners in the low dens of Whitechapel. He was nearly blackballed at the West End club. On one occasion, while entering the smoking-room of the Churchill, the Duke of Berwick got up in a most marked manner and went out very abruptly. Dorian's absences from society became notorious. Men would mutter to each other in corners or pass him with a sneer of contempt set upon their face. Others would look at him with cold, searching eyes as if in an attempt to uncover his secrets.

Of course, Dorian took no notice of such slights and the petty insolence of others. His frank manner, boyish smile, and infinite youth were sufficient answer to any whispers that circulated around him. However, it was remarked that some of those with whom Dorian had seemed most intimate appeared after a time to shun him completely. Women who had once wildly adored him and had thrown caution and social convention to the wind for his sake, were now seen to grow pale with horror or red with shame whenever Dorian Gray entered the room.

Despite that, these minor scandals only increased his flourishing fame. Along with his apparently vast wealth, it only served to cement him as a requisite element of society. A Civilized society can never really believe anything too detrimental of the rich and fascinating. For they understand that good manners are vastly more important than good morals. They are far more likely never to forgive a man who throws a boring party, serves cheap wine, or prepares a tasteless dinner. Too many were enamored with Dorian Gray's opinions on life. He often expressed that life was really a mixture of multiple lives. It was a myriad of sensations, strange legacies of thought and passions, and with everything including the very flesh—tainted by the lives of the dead who came before us.