ment Storri stepped into her
presence; she knew by intuition the foulness of his fiber, and shivered
at any threat of contact therewith.

Storri was aware of Dorothy's dislike, since aversion is the one
sentiment a woman cannot conceal. The discovery only made him laugh. He
was too much the conqueror of women to look for failure here. Should he,
Storri, who had been sighed for by the fairest of a dozen stately
courts, receive defeat from a little American? Bah! he would have her at
his ease, win her at his pleasure! Dorothy's efforts to avoid him gave
pursuit a piquancy!

While Storri noted Dorothy's distaste of him, he did not get slightest
slant of her tender preference for Richard. As far as he might, Storri
had taught himself contempt for Richard. This was not the simplest task;
it is hard to despise one whom your heart fears, and before whose glance
your own eyes waver and give way. Still, Storri got on with his contempt
beyond what one might have imagined. He considered all Americans beneath
him, and Richard was an American. There he had an advantage at the
start. Also, Richard was of the newspapers. Even those Americans about
him, with their own sneers and shoulder-shrugs, showed him how such folk
were unworthy genteel countenance. They looked down upon Richard, Storri
looked down upon them; the greater included the less, and deductions
were easy. Storri arrived at a most happy contempt of Richard as a
mathematician gets to the solution of a problem, and, being mercurial,
not thoughtful, arranged with himself that Richard was below
consideration.

Richard and Storri made no sign of social recognition when their paths
crossed by chance. At such times the latter held an attitude of staring
superiority--the fellow, perhaps, to that which belonged with Captain
Cook when first he saw the Sandwich Islanders. Had Storri been of
reflective turn he might have remembered that, as a gustatory finale,
those serene islanders roasted the mariner, and made their dinner off
him.

Mr. Harley was a busy man, and yet he had no office rooms. This was not
his fault; he had once set out to establish himself with such a theater
of effort, but Senator Hanway put down his foot.

"No; no office, John!" said that statesman.

Then Senator Hanway, who was as furtive as a mink, called Mr. Harley's
attention to the explanation which a narrow world would give. Those
office rooms would be pointed to as the market-place where corporations