He rarely appeared in the office.

He was met at the Broad Street entrance of the exchange at one minute to ten by a boy with the morning's orders, and sometimes he came in for a few minutes after the closing; but usually by three-fifteen he had disappeared from financial circles, and was understood to be relaxing in the higher social spheres to which he belonged.

So when Pete, entering Mr.Benson's private office, saw Honaton leaning against the window-frame, with his hat-brim held against his thigh exactly like a fashion-plate, he knew that something of importance must be pending.
Benson, the senior member, was a very different person.

He looked like a fat, white, pugnacious cat.

His hair, which had turned white early, had a tendency to grow in a bang; his arms were short--so short that when he put his hands on the arms of his swing-chair he hardly bent his elbows.
He had them there now as Pete entered, and was swinging through short arcs in rather a nervous rhythm.