"Then why not cease to see Bosie?" I asked.

"It is impossible, Frank, and ridiculous; why should I give up my friends for
Queensberry?"

"I should like to see Queensberry's letter," I said. "Is it possible?"

"I'll bring it to you, Frank, but there's nothing in it." A day or two later he
showed me the letter, and after I had read it he produced a copy of the telegram
which Lord Alfred Douglas had sent to his father in reply. Here they both are;
they speak for themselves loudly enough:

Alfred,--

It is extremely painful for me to have to write to you in the strain I must; but
please understand that I decline to receive any answers from you in writing in
return. After your recent hysterical impertinent ones I refuse to be annoyed
with such, and I decline to read any more letters. If you have anything to say
do come here and say it in person. Firstly, am I to understand that, having
left Oxford as you did, with discredit to yourself, the reasons of which were
fully explained to me by your tutor, you now intend to loaf and loll about and
do nothing? All the time you were wasting at Oxford I was put off with an
assurance that you were eventually to go into the Civil Service or to the
Foreign Office, and then I was put off with an assurance that you were going to
the Bar. It appears to me that you intend to do nothing. I utterly decline,
however, to just supply you with sufficient funds to enable you to loaf about.
You are preparing a wretched future for yourself, and it would be most cruel and
wrong for me to encourage you in this. Secondly, I come to the more painful
part of this letter--your intimacy with this man Wilde. It must either cease