He is lazy, and getting lazier and lazier every day; and he drinks far too much.

He is intolerable.

I thought when he kept asking me for that money to-night, he was like an old prostitute." "Good God!" I cried.

"Good God! Has it come to that between you ?" "Yes," he repeated, not heeding what I said, "he was just like an old fat prostitute," and he gloated over the word, "and I told him so." I looked at the man but could not speak; indeed there was nothing to be said.

Surely at last, I thought, Oscar Wilde has reached the lowest depth.