Introduction

The studio was filled with the rich odor of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden. The dim roar of London was like the bored-on note of a distant organ. As the painter looked at the gracious and cumbly form he had so skillfully mirrored in his art, a smile of pleasure passed across his face. But he suddenly started up, and closing his eyes placed his fingers upon the lids. It is your best work, Basil, the best thing you have ever done. Said Lord Henry, Langwood Lee.

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