The desire to astonish and dazzle, the love of the uncommon for its own sake, was so evident that I shrugged my shoulders and avoided him.

One evening, however, at Mrs.Jeune's, I got to know him better.

At the very door Mrs.Jeune came up to me: "Have you ever met Mr.Oscar Wilde?
You ought to know him: he is so delightfully clever, so brilliant!" I went with her and was formally introduced to him.

He shook hands in a limp way I disliked; his hands were flabby, greasy; his skin looked bilious and dirty.

He wore a great green scarab ring on one finger.