In none did Storri unpack his enterprises; these talks were feelers, and he was studying Mr.Harley.Storri was gratified to find Mr.Harley, by native trend, as rapacious and as much the gambler as himself.

Also, he observed the licking satisfaction wherewith Mr.Harley listened to every noble reference; with that, Storri contrived--for his conversation--a fashion of little personal Kingdom on the Caspian, tossed himself up a castle, and entertained therein from time to time about half the royal blood of Europe; all to the marvelous delight of Mr.Harley, whom Storri never failed to wish had been a guest on those purple occasions.
At this seductive rate, it was no more than a matter of ten days before Mr.Harley went quoting his friend Storri; he had that titled Slav to dinner, when the latter became as much the favorite with Mrs.
Hanway-Harley as he was with her ruder spouse.
Storri saw Dorothy; and was set burning with a love for her that, if the flame were less pure, was as instant and as devouring as the love to sweep over Richard upon the boot-heel evening when he caught her in his arms.

Storri forgot himself across table, and his onyx eyes were riveted upon Dorothy as though their owner were enthralled.
Dorothy felt at once flattered and repelled.

She was interested, even while she shuddered; it was as though she had been made the object of the sudden, if venomous, admiration of a king-cobra.
"My friend," purred Storri, one afternoon when he and Mr.Harley were alone, "my good friend, I will no longer refrain from taking you into my confidence; and when I say that, you are to understand, also, into the confidence of my Czar." Storri rested his head in his hand a moment, and seemed to ponder the propriety of what he was about.

Mr.Harley said nothing, but sat a-fidget with curiosity.