When the second act was over there came a storm of hisses, and Lord Henry got up from his chair and put on his coat. ‘She is quite beautiful, Dorian,’ he said, ‘but she can’t act. Let us go.’ ‘I am going to see the play through,’ answered the lad, in a hard, bitter voice. ‘I am awfully sorry that I have made you waste an evening, Harry. I apologize to both of you.’ ‘My dear Dorian, I should think Miss Vane was ill,’ interrupted Hallward. ‘We will come some other night.’ ‘I wish she was ill,’ he rejoined. ‘But she seems to me to be simply callous and cold. She has entirely altered. Last night she was a great artist. To-night she is merely a commonplace, mediocre actress.’ ‘Don’t talk like that about any one you love, Dorian. Love is a more wonderful thing than art.’
The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde
