Mr.Harley might be disgraced, destroyed; but what then?
Storri's plans would assuredly be trampled flat; millions, about to come into his hands, would be swept away.
These, as arguments to be addressed to Storri, no sooner entered the mind of Mr.Harley than he dismissed them as offering no solution of his perils.

He had felt, rather than seen, the barbarism of Storri beneath the tissue of what that nobleman would have styled his elegant refinement.

Storri was a coward, and therefore Storri was malignant; he had shown, as he went promising disgrace to Mr.Harley, that petulance of evil which is remarked in savages and cruel children.

Storri was dominated of a passion for revenge; under sway of that passion no chance of money-loss would stay him; he would sacrifice all and begin his schemes anew before he would deny himself those vainglorious triumphs upon which he had set his heart.

He hated Richard; he hungered for Dorothy; and Mr.Harley knew how he would go to every extravagant extent in feeding those two sentiments.
Mr.Harley sighed dismally as he reviewed these conclusions; he could do nothing, and must serve, or seem to serve, the villain humor of Storri.
What were those two demands?
Storri must meet Dorothy; and Richard must not.