"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."