James Vane hesitated for a moment, not understanding what was meant.
Then he seized Dorian Gray and dragged him from the archway.
Dim and wavering as was the wind-blown light, yet it served to show
him the hideous error, as it seemed, into which he had fallen,
for the face of the man he had sought to kill had all the bloom
of boyhood, all the unstained purity of youth. He seemed little more
than a lad of twenty summers, hardly older, if older indeed at all,
than his sister had been when they had parted so many years ago.
It was obvious that this was not the man who had destroyed
her life.
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