quot;Mr. Dorian Gray does not belong to Blue Books, Uncle George,quot; said Lord henry languidly.

    quot;Mr. Dorian Gray? ; asked Lord Fermor, knitting e eyebrows.

    quot;t is  Lord Kelsos grandson.  Devereaux. I  you to tell me about  ed in Mr. Gray at present. I  met ;

    quot;Kelsos grandson!quot; ecleman. quot;Kelsos grandson! ... Of course.... I kneely. I believe I  ening. Sraordinarily beautiful girl, Margaret Devereux, and made all tic by running aern in a foot regiment, or somet kind. Certainly. I remember t erday. t Spa a feer tory about it. t some rascally adventurer, some Belgian brute, to insult o do it, paid  tted , egad, Kelso ate  time afterold, and so  oo, died  a son, did sten t.  sort of boy is  be a good-looking c;

    quot;; assented Lord henry.

    quot;I o proper ; continued t; of money ing for  too. All ty came to ed Kelso, t oo. Came to Madrid once  t te a story of it. I didnt dare s Court for a montreated ter t;

    quot;I dont kno; ans t of age yet. old me so. And . . . iful?quot;

    quot;Margaret Devereux  creatures I ever sao beand. Son er ic, t family , but, egad! ton  on o old me so   a girl in London at time er alking about silly marriages, ells me about Dartmoor ing to marry an American? Aint Englis;

    quot;It is rato marry Americans just no;

    quot;Ill back Englis t; said Lord Fermor, striking table .

    quot;tting is on t;

    quot;t last, I am told,quot; muttered his uncle.

    quot;A long enga