Chapter 2
I climbed the three dilapidated flights of stairs, which I had
so often climbed before, and knocked at a small door at the end of
the corridor. Mr. Wilde opened the door and I walked in.
When he had double-locked the door and pushed a heavy chest
against it, he came and sat down beside me, peering up into my face
with his little light-coloured eyes. Half a dozen new scratches
covered his nose and cheeks, and the silver wires which supported
his artificial ears had become displaced. I thought I had never
seen him so hideously fascinating. He had no ears. The artificial
ones, which now stood out at an angle from the fine wire, were his
one weakness. They were made of wax and painted a shell pink, but
the rest of his face was yellow. He might better have revelled in
the
