The sewer, too! Would a tunnel reach this treasure?
The question used to come back upon Storri.

Also he got into the habit, as he went about the streets, of walking by the Treasury.
This was not offspring of any purpose; Storri had none.

It was only that he took an instinctive satisfaction in the nearness of that heaped-up gold.

He could feel its close neighborhood, and the feeling was as wine to his imagination.
Storri was not permitted respite by the San Reve concerning the Harleys.
The jealous one of the green-gray eyes insisted upon seeing Storri often; and he, putting on a best face, pretended that he loved the San Reve the better for her jealousy.

To keep the peace, he was wont to drop round to Grant Place three or four times a week.
These concessions to the San Reve and her rather too fervid love would not get in the way of Storri's dinners at the Harleys'.