There was an impulse to something in his mind; an impulse not yet expressed in any form of thought, though in the progress toward something definite.
"Fifty dollars a day!" he murmurs.

Ah, that shows the direction of his mind.

He is still struggling in temptation, and with all his inherited cupidities bearing him downward.
Suddenly he starts, turns his head, and listens eagerly, and with a strange agitation.

Some one had tried the door.

For a few moments he stood in an attitude of the most profound attention.