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 might trade for his, Senator Hanway's, services.
"If you please, we'll have no such argument going about," observed Senator Hanway.
This want of a business headquarters, while it may have been an inconvenience to Mr.Harley, now arose to dovetail with the desires of Storri.

It gave him a pretext for calling at the Harley house; with Mr.
Harley as excuse, and making a pretense of having business with him, he could break in at all manner of queer hours.
Storri made a study of the Harley household.

About four of the afternoon it was Mrs.Hanway-Harley's habit to retire and refresh herself with a nap, against the demands of dinner and what social gayeties might follow.