He got up and looked out into the street.

The sunset had smitten into scarlet gold the upper windows of the houses opposite.
The panes glowed like plates of heated metal.

The sky above was like a faded rose.

He thought of his friend's young fiery-coloured life and wondered how it was all going to end.
When he arrived home, about half-past twelve o'clock, he saw a telegram lying on the hall table.

He opened it and found it was from Dorian Gray.