CONRAD:TheSecretAgent，Chapter11CHAPTER11
AFTERChiefInspectorHeathadlefthimMrVerlocmovedabouttheparlour。
Fromtimetotimeheeyedhiswifethroughtheopendoor。`Sheknowsallaboutitnow，’hethoughttohimselfwithcommiserationforhersorrowandwithsomesatisfactionasregardedhimself。MrVerloc’ssoul，iflackinggreatnessperhaps，wascapableoftendersentiments。Theprospectofhavingtobreakthenewstoherhadputhimintoafever。ChiefInspectorHeathadrelievedhimofthetask。Thatwasgoodasfarasitwent。Itremainedforhimnowtofacehergrief。
MrVerlochadneverexpectedtohavetofaceitonaccountofdeath，whosecatastrophiccharactercannotbearguedawaybysophisticatedreasoningorpersuasiveeloquence。MrVerlocnevermeantStevietoperishwithsuchabruptviolence。Hedidnotmeanhimtoperishatall。Steviedeadwasamuchgreaternuisancethaneverhehadbeenwhenalive。MrVerlochadauguredafavourableissuetohisenterprise，basinghimselfnotonStevie’sintelligence，whichsometimesplaysqueertrickswithaman，butontheblinddocilityandontheblinddevotionoftheboy。Thoughnotmuchofapsychologist，MrVerlochadgaugedthedepthofStevie’sfanaticism。
HedaredcherishthehopeofSteviewalkingawayfromthewallsoftheObservatoryashehadbeeninstructedtodo，takingthewayshowntohimseveraltimespreviously，andrejoininghisbrother—in—law，thewiseandgoodMrVerloc，outsidetheprecinctsofthepark。Fifteenminutesoughttohavebeenenoughfortheveriestfooltodeposittheengineandwalkaway。AndtheProfessorhadguaranteedmorethanfifteenminutes。ButSteviehadstumbledwithinfiveminutesofbeinglefttohimself。AndMrVerlocwasshakenmorallytopieces。Hehadforeseeneverythingbutthat。HehadforeseenSteviedistractedandlost—soughtfor—foundinsomepolicestationorprovincialworkhouseintheend。HehadforeseenSteviearrested，andwasnotafraid，becauseMrVerlochadagreatopinionofStevie’sloyalty，whichhadbeencarefullyindoctrinatedwiththenecessityofsilenceinthecourseofmanywalks。Likeaperipateticphilosopher，MrVerloc，strollingalongthestreetsofLondon，hadmodifiedStevie’sviewofthepolicebyconversationsfullofsubtlereasonings。Neverhadasageamoreattentiveandadmiringdisciple。ThesubmissionandworshipweresoapparentthatMrVerlochadcometofeelsomethinglikealikingfortheboy。Inanycase，hehadnotforeseentheswiftbringinghomeofhisconnection。Thathiswifeshouldhitupontheprecautionofsewingtheboy’saddressinsidehisovercoatwasthelastthingMrVerlocwouldhavethoughtof。Onecan’tthinkifeverything。ThatwaswhatshemeantwhenshesaidthatheneednotworryifhelostStevieduringtheirwalks。Shehadassuredhimthattheboywouldturnupallright。Well，hehadturnedupwithavengeance！
`Well，well，’mutteredMrVerlocinhiswonder。Whatdidshemeanbyit？SparehimthetroubleofkeepingananxiouseyeonStevie？Mostlikelyshehadmeantwell。Onlysheoughttohavetoldhimoftheprecautionshehadtaken。
MrVerlocwalkedbehindthecounteroftheshop。Hisintentionwasnottooverwhelmhiswifewithbitterreproaches。MrVerlocfeltnobitterness。
Theunexpectedmarchofeventshadconvertedhimtothedoctrineoffatalism。
Nothingcouldbehelpednow。Hesaid:
`Ididn’tmeananyharmtocometotheboy。’
MrsVerlocshudderedatthesoundofherhusband’svoice。Shedidnotuncoverherface。ThetrustedsecretagentofthelateBaronStott—Wartenheimlookedatherforatimewithaheavy，persistent，undiscerningglance。
Thetorneveningpaperwaslyingatherfeet。Itcouldnothavetoldhermuch。MrVerlocfelttheneedoftalkingtohiswife。
`It’sthatdamnedHeat—eh？’hesaid。`Heupsetyou。He’sabrute，blurtingitoutlikethistoawoman。Imademyselfillthinkingofhowtobreakittoyou。IsatforhoursinthelittleparlouroftheCheshireCheesethinkingoverthebestway。YouunderstandInevermeantanyharmtocometothatboy。’
MrVerloc，thesecretagent，wasspeakingthetruth。Itwashismaritalaffectionthathadreceivedthegreatestshockfromtheprematureexplosion。
Headded:
`Ididn’tfeelparticularlygaysittingthereandthinkingofyou。’
Heobservedanotherslightshudderofhiswife，whichaffectedhissensibility。
Asshepersistedinhidingherfaceinherhands，hethoughthehadbetterleaveheraloneforawhile。OnthisdelicateimpulseMrVerlocwithdrewintotheparlouragain，wherethegas—jetpurredlikeacontentedcat。
MrsVerloc’swifelyforethoughthadleftthecoldbeefonthetablewithcarvingknifeandforkandhalfaloafofbreadforMrVerloc’ssupper。
Henoticedallthesethingsnowforthefirsttime，andcuttinghimselfapieceofbreadandmeat，begantoeat。
Hisappetitedidnotproceedfromcallousness。MrVerlochadnoteatenanybreakfastthatday。Hehadlefthishomefasting。Notbeinganenergeticman，hefoundhisresolutioninnervousexcitement，whichseemedtoholdhimmainlybythethroat。Hecouldnothaveswallowedanythingsolid。Michaelis’scottagewasasdestituteofprovisionsasthecellofaprisoner。Theticket—of—leaveapostlelivedonalittlemilkandcrustsofstalebread。Moreover，whenMrVerlocarrivedhehadalreadygoneupstairsafterhisfrugalmeal。Absorbedinthetoilanddelightofliterarycomposition，hehadnotevenansweredMrVerloc’sshoutupthelittlestaircase。
`Iamtakingthisyoungfellowhomeforadayortwo。
And，intruth，MrVerlocdidnotwaitforananswer，buthadmarchedoutofthecottageatonce，followedbytheobedientStevie。
Nowthatallactionwasoverandhisfatetakenoutofhishandswithunexpectedswiftness，MrVerlocfeltterriblyemptyphysically。Hecarvedthemeat，cutthebread，anddevouredhissupperstandingbythetable，andnowandthencastingaglancetowardshiswife。Herprolongedimmobilitydisturbedthecomfortofhisreflection。Hewalkedagainintotheshop，andcameupveryclosetoher。ThissorrowwithaveiledfacemadeMrVerlocuneasy。Heexpected，ofcourse，hiswifetobeverymuchupset，buthewantedhertopullherselftogether。Heneededallherassistanceandallherloyaltyinthesenewconjunctureshisfatalismhadalreadyaccepted。
`Can’tbehelped，’hesaidinatoneofgloomysympathy。`Come，Winnie，we’vegottothinkoftomorrow。You’llwantallyourwitsaboutyouafterIamtakenaway。’
Hepaused。MrsVerloc’sbreastheavedconvulsively。ThiswasnotreassuringtoMrVerloc，inwhoseviewthenewlycreatedsituationrequiredfromthetwopeoplemostconcernedinitcalmness，decision，andotherqualitiesincompatiblewiththementaldisorderofpassionatesorrow。MrVerlocwasahumaneman;hehadcomehomepreparedtoalloweverylatitudetohiswife’saffectionforherbrother。Onlyhedidnotunderstandeitherthenatureorthewholeextentofthatsentiment。Andinthishewasexcusable，sinceitwasimpossibleforhimtounderstanditwithoutceasingtobehimself。Hewasstartledanddisappointed，andhisspeechconveyeditbyacertainroughnessoftone。
`Youmightlookatafellow，’heobservedafterwaitingawhile。
AsifforcedthroughthehandscoveringMrsVerloc’sfacetheanswercame，deadened，almostpitiful。
`Idon’twanttolookatyouaslongasIlive。’
`Eh？What！’MrVerlocwasmerelystartledbythesuperficialandliteralmeaningofthisdeclaration。Itwasobviouslyunreasonable，themerecryofexaggeratedgrief。Hethrewoveritthemantleofhismaritalindulgence。
ThemindofMrVerloclackedprofundity。Underthemistakenimpressionthatthevalueofindividualsconsistsinwhattheyareinthemselves，hecouldnotpossiblycomprehendthevalueofStevieintheeyesofMrsVerloc。Shewastakingitconfoundedlyhard，hethoughttohimself。ItwasallthefaultofthatdamnedHeat。Whatdidhewanttoupsetthewomanfor？Butshemustn’tbeallowed，forherowngood，tocarryonsotillshegotquitebesideherself。
`Lookhere！Youcan’tsitlikethisintheshop，’hesaidwithaffectedseverity，inwhichtherewassomerealannoyance;forurgentpracticalmattersmustbetalkedoveriftheyhadtositupallnight。`Somebodymightcomeinatanyminute，’headded，andwaitedagain。Noeffectwasproduced，andtheideaofthefinalityofdeathoccurredtoMrVerlocduringthepause。Hechangedhistone。`Come。Thiswon’tbringhimback，’hesaid，gently，feelingreadytotakeherinhisarmsandpresshertohisbreast，whereimpatienceandcompassiondweltsidebyside。ButexceptforashortshudderMrsVerlocremainedapparentlyunaffectedbytheforceofthatterribletruism。ItwasMrVerlochimselfwhowasmoved。Hewasmovedinhissimplicitytourgemoderationbyassertingtheclaimsofhisownpersonality。
`Dobereasonable，Winnie。Whatwouldithavebeenifyouhadlostme？’
Hehadvaguelyexpectedtohearhercryout。Butshedidnotbudge。
Sheleanedbackalittle，quieteddowntoacomplete，unreadablestillness。
MrVerloc’sheartbegantobeatfasterwithexasperationandsomethingresemblingalarm。Helaidhishandonhershoulder，saying:
`Don’tbeafool，Winnie。’
Shegavenosign。Itwasimpossibletotalktoanypurposewithawomanwhosefaceonecannotsee。MrVerloccaughtholdofhiswife’swrists。
Butherhandsseemedgluedfast。Sheswayedforwardbodilytohistug，andnearlywentoffthechair。Startledtofeelhersohelplesslylimp，hewastryingtoputherbackonthechairwhenshestiffenedsuddenlyallover，toreherselfoutofhishands，ranoutoftheshop，acrosstheparlourandintothekitchen。Thiswasveryswift。Hehadjustaglimpseofherfaceandthatmuchofhereyesthatheknewshehadnotlookedathim。
Itallhadtheappearanceofastruggleforthepossessionofachair，becauseMrVerlocinstantlytookhiswife’splaceinit。MrVerlocdidnotcoverhisfacewithhishands，butasombrethoughtfulnessveiledhisfeatures。Atermofimprisonmentcouldnotbeavoided。Hedidnotwishnowtoavoidit。Aprisonwasaplaceassafefromcertainunlawfulvengeancesasthegrave，withthisadvantage，thatinprisonthereisroomforhope。
Whathesawbeforehimwasatermofimprisonment，anearlyrelease，andthenlifeabroadsomewhere，suchashehadcontemplatedalready，incaseoffailure。Well，itwasafailure，ifnotexactlythesortoffailurehehadfeared。IthadbeensonearsuccessthathecouldhavepositivelyterrifiedMrVladimiroutofhisferociousscoffingwiththisproofofoccultefficiency。SoatleastitseemednowtoMrVerloc。HisprestigewiththeEmbassywouldhavebeenimmenseif—ifhiswifehadnothadtheunluckynotionofsewingontheaddressinsideStevie’sovercoat。MrVerloc，whowasnofool，hadsoonperceivedtheextraordinarycharacteroftheinfluencehehadoverSteviethoughhedidnotunderstandexactlyitsorigin—thedoctrineofhissupremewisdomandgoodnessinculcatedbytwoanxiouswomen。InalltheeventualitieshehadforeseenMrVerlochadcalculatedwithcorrectinsightonStevie’sinstinctiveloyaltyandblinddiscretion。
Theeventualityhehadnotforeseenhadappalledhimasahumanemanandafondhusband。Fromeveryotherpointofviewitwasratheradvantageous。
Nothingcanequaltheeverlastingdiscretionofdeath。MrVerloc，sittingperplexedandfrightenedinthesmallparlouroftheCheshireCheese，couldnothelpacknowledgingthattohimself，becausehissensibilitydidnotstandinthewayofhisjudgement。Stevie’sviolentdisintegration，howeverdisturbingtothinkabout，onlyassuredthesuccess;for，ofcourse，theknockingdownofawallwasnottheaimofMrVladimir’smenaces，buttheproductionofamoraleffect。WithmuchtroubleanddistressonMrVerloc’sparttheeffectmightbesaidtohavebeenproduced。When，however，mostunexpectedly，itcamehometoroostinBrettStreet，MrVerloc，whohadbeenstrugglinglikeamaninanightmareforthepreservationofhisposition，acceptedtheblowinthespiritofaconvincedfatalist。Thepositionwasgonethroughnoone’sfaultreally。Asmall，tinyfacthaddoneit。Itwaslikeslippingonabitoforangepeelinthedarkandbreakingyourleg。
MrVerlocdrewawearybreath。Henourishednoresentmentagainsthiswife。Hethought:`Shewillhavetolookaftertheshopwhiletheykeepmelockedup。’AndthinkingalsohowcruellyshewouldmissStevieatfirst，hefeltgreatlyconcernedaboutherhealthandspirits。Howwouldshestandhersolitude—absolutelyaloneinthathouse？Itwouldnotdoforhertobreakdownwhilehewaslockedup。Whatwouldbecomeoftheshopthen？
Theshopwasanasset。ThoughMrVerloc’sfatalismacceptedhisundoingasasecretagent，hehadnomindtobeutterlyruined，mostly，itmustbeowned，fromregardforhiswife。
Silentandoutofhislineofsightinthekitchen，shefrightenedhim。
Ifonlyshehadhermotherwithher。Butthatsillyoldwoman—AnangrydismaypossessedMrVerloc。Hemusttalkwithhiswife。Hecouldtellhercertainlythatamandoesgetdesperateundercertaincircumstances。Buthedidnotgoincontinentlytoimparttoherthatinformation。Firstofall，itwascleartohimchatthiseveningwasnotimeforbusiness。Hegotuptoclosethestreetdoorandputthegasoutintheshop。
Havingthusassuredasolitudearoundhishearth—stoneMrVerlocwalkedintotheparlour，andglanceddownintothekitchen。MrsVerlocwassittingintheplacewherepoorStevieusuallyestablishedhimselfofaneveningwithpaperandpencilforthepastimeofdrawingthosecoruscationsofinnumerablecirclessuggestingchaosandeternity。Herarmswerefoldedonthetable，andherheadwaslyingonherarms。MrVerloccontemplatedherbackandthearrangementofherhairforatime，thenwalkedawayfromthekitchendoor。MrsVerloc’sphilosophical，almostdisdainfulincuriosity，thefoundationoftheiraccordindomesticlife，madeitextremelydifficulttogetintocontactwithher，nowthistragicnecessityhadarisen。MrVerlocfeltthisdifficultyacutely。Heturnedaroundthetableintheparlourwithhisusualairofalargeanimalinacage。
Curiositybeingoneoftheformsofself—revelation，asystematicallyincuriouspersonremainsalwayspartlymysterious。EverytimehepassednearthedoorMrVerlocglancedathiswifeuneasily。Itwasnotthathewasafraidofher。MrVerlocimaginedhimselflovedbythatwoman。Butshehadnotaccustomedhimtomakeconfidences。Andtheconfidencehehadtomakewasofaprofoundpsychologicalorder。Howwithhiswantofpracticecouldhetellherwhathehimselffeltbutvaguely:thatthereareconspiraciesoffataldestiny，thatanotiongrowsinamindsometimestillitacquiresanoutwardexistence，anindependentpowerofitsown，andevenasuggestivevoice？Hecouldnotinformherthatamanmaybehauntedbyafat，witty，clean—shavedfacetillthewildestexpedienttogetridofitappearsachildofwisdom。
OnthismentalreferencetoaFirstSecretaryofagreatEmbassy，MrVerlocstoppedinthedoorway，andlookingdownintothekitchenwithanangryfaceandclenchedfists，addressedhiswife。
`Youdon’tknowwhatabruteIhadtodealwith。’
Hestartedofftomakeanotherperambulationofthetable，thenwhenhehadcometothedooragainhestopped，glaringinfromtheheightoftwosteps。
`Asilly，jeering，dangerousbrute，withnomoresensethan—Afteralltheseyears！Amanlikeme！AndIhavebeenplayingmyheadatthatgame。Youdidn’tknow。Quiteright，too。WhatwasthegoodoftellingyouthatIstoodtheriskofhavingaknifestuckintomeanytimethesesevenyearswe’vebeenmarried？Iamnotachaptoworryawomanthat’sfondofme。Youhadnobusinesstoknow。’
MrVerloctookanotherturnroundtheparlour，fuming。
`Avenomousbeast，’hebeganagainfromthedoorway。`Drivemeoutintoaditchtostarveforajoke。Icouldseehethoughtitwasadamnedgoodjoke。Amanlikeme！Lookhere！Someofthehighestintheworldgottothankmeforwalkingontheirtwolegstothisday。That’sthemanyou’vegotmarriedto，mygirl！’
Heperceivedthathiswifehadsatup。MrsVerloc’sarmsremainedlyingstretchedonthetable。MrVerlocwatchedherbackasifhecouldreadtheretheeffectofhiswords。
`Thereisn’tamurderingplotforthelastelevenyearsthatIhadn’tmyfingerinattheriskofmylife。There’sscoresoftheserevolutionistsI’vesentoffwiththeirbombsintheirblamedpockets，togetthemselvescaughtonthefrontier。TheoldBaronknewwhatIwasworthtohiscountry。
Andheresuddenlyaswinecomesalong—anignorant，overbearingswine。’
MrVerloc，steppingslowlydowntwosteps，enteredthekitchen，tookatumbleroffthedresser，andholdingitinhishand，approachedthesink，withoutlookingathiswife。
`Itwasn’ttheoldBaronwhowouldhavehadthewickedfollyofgettingmetocallonhimateleveninthemorning。Therearetwoorthreeinthistownthat，iftheyhadseenmegoingin，wouldhavemadenobonesaboutknockingmeontheheadsoonerorlater。Itwasasilly，murderoustricktoexposefornothingaman—likeme。’
MrVerloc，turningonthetapabovethesink，pouredthreeglassesofwater，oneafteranother，downhisthroattoquenchthefiresofhisindignation。
MrVladimir’sconductwaslikeahotbrandwhichsethisinternaleconomyinablaze。Hecouldnotgetoverthedisloyaltyofit。Thisman，whowouldnotworkattheusualhardtaskswhichsocietysetstoitshumblermembers，hadexercisedhissecretindustrywithanindefatigabledevotion。TherewasinMrVerlocafundofloyalty。Hehadbeenloyaltohisemployers，tothecauseofsocialstability—andtohisaffections，too—asbecameapparentwhen，afterstandingthetumblerinthesink，heturnedabout，saying:
`IfIhadn’tthoughtofyouIwouldhavetakenthebullyingbrutebythethroatandrammedhisheadintothefireplace。I’dhavebeenmorethanamatchforthatpink—faced，smooth—shaved—’
MrVerlocneglectedtofinishthesentence，asiftherecouldbenodoubtoftheterminalword。Forthefirsttimeinhislifehewastakingthatincuriouswomanintohisconfidence。Thesingularityoftheevent，theforceandimportanceofthepersonalfeelingsarousedinthecourseofthisconfession，droveStevie’sfatecleanoutofMrVerloc’smind。
Theboy’sstutteringexistenceoffearsandindignations，togetherwiththeviolenceofhisend，hadpassedoutofMrVerloc’smentalsightforatime。Forthatreason，whenhelookeduphewasstartledbytheinappropriatecharacterofhiswife’sstare。Itwasnotawildstare，anditwasnotinattentive，butitsattentionwaspeculiarandnotsatisfactory，inasmuchthatitseemedconcentrateduponsomepointbeyondMrVerloc’sperson。
TheimpressionwassostrongthatMrVerlocglancedoverhisshoulder。
Therewasnothingbehindhim:therewasjustthewhitewashedwall。TheexcellenthusbandofWinnieVerlocsawnowritingonthewall。Heturnedtohiswifeagain，repeating，withsomeemphasis:
`Iwouldhavetakenhimbythethroat。AstrueasIstandhere，ifI
hadn’tthoughtofyouthenIwouldhavehalfchokedthelifeoutofthebrutebeforeIlethimgetup。Anddon’tyouthinkhewouldhavebeenanxioustocallthepolice—either。Hewouldn’thavedared。Youunderstandwhy—don’tyou？’
Heblinkedathiswifeknowingly。
`No，’saidMrsVerlocinanunresonantvoice，andwithoutlookingathimatall。`Whatareyoutalkingabout？’
Agreatdiscouragement，theresultoffatigue，cameuponMrVerloc。
Hehadhadaveryfullday，andhisnerveshadbeentriedtotheutmost。
Afteramonthofmaddeningworry，endinginanunexpectedcatastrophe，thestorm—tossedspiritofMrVerloclongedforrepose。Hiscareerasasecretagenthadcometoanendinawaynoonecouldhaveforeseen;only，now，perhapshecouldmanagetogetanight’ssleepatlast。Butlookingathiswife，hedoubtedit。Shewastakingitveryhard—notatalllikeherself，hethought。Hemadeanefforttospeak。
`You’llhavetopullyourselftogether，mygirl，’hesaid，sympathetically。
`What’sdonecan’tbeundone。’
MrsVerlocgaveaslightstart，thoughnotamuscleofherwhitefacemovedintheleast。MrVerloc，whowasnotlookingather，continuedponderously:
`Yougotobednow。Whatyouwantisagoodcry。’
Thisopinionhadnothingtorecommenditbutthegeneralconsentofmankind。Itisuniversallyunderstoodthat，asifitwerenothingmoresubstantialthanvapourfloatinginthesky，everyemotionofawomanisboundtoendinashower。AnditisveryprobablethathadSteviediedinhisbedunderherdespairinggaze，inherprotectingarms，MrsVerloc’sgriefwouldhavefoundreliefinafloodofbitterandpuretears。MrsVerloc，incommonwithotherhumanbeings，wasprovidedwithafundofunconsciousresignationsufficienttomeetthenormalmanifestationofhumandestiny。Without`troublingherheadaboutit’，shewasawarethatit`didnotstandlookingintoverymuch’。ButthelamentablecircumstancesofStevie’send，whichtoMrVerloc’smindhadonlyanepisodiccharacter，aspartofagreaterdisaster，driedhertearsattheirverysource。Itwastheeffectofawhite—hotirondrawnacrosshereyes;atthesametimeherheart，hardenedandchilledintoalumpofice，keptherbodyinaninwardshudder，setherfeaturesintoafrozen，contemplativeimmobilityaddressedtoawhitewashedwallwithnowritingonit。TheexigenciesofMrsVerloc’stemperament，which，whenstrippedofitsphilosophicalreserve，wasmaternalandviolent，forcedhertorollaseriesofthoughtsinhermotionlesshead。Thesethoughtswereratherimaginedthanexpressed。MrsVerlocwasawomanofsingularlyfewwords，eitherforpublicorprivateuse。Withtherageanddismayofabetrayedwoman，shereviewedthetenorofherlifeinvisionsconcernedmostlywithStevie’sdifficultexistencefromitsearliestdays。Itwasalifeofsinglepurposeandofanobleunityofinspiration，likethoserarelivesthathavelefttheirmarkonthethoughtsandfeelingsofmankind。ButthevisionsofMrsVerloclackednobilityandmagnificence。Shesawherselfputtingtheboytobedbythelightofasinglecandleonthedesertedtopfloorofa`businesshouse’，darkundertheroofandscintillatingexceedinglywithlightsandcutglassatthelevelofthestreetlikeafairypalace。ThatmeretricioussplendourwastheonlyonetobemetinMrsVerloc’svisions。Sherememberedbrushingtheboy’shairandtyinghispinafores—herselfinapinaforestill;theconsolationsadministeredtoasmallandbadlyscaredcreaturebyanothercreaturenearlyassmallbutnotquitesobadlyscared;shehadthevisionoftheblowsintercepted（oftenwithherownhead），ofadoorhelddesperatelyshutagainstaman’srage（notforverylong）;ofapokerflungonce（notveryfar），whichstilledthatparticularstormintothedumbandawfulsilencewhichfollowsathunder—clap。Andallthesescenesofviolencecameandwentaccompaniedbytheunrefinednoiseofdeepvociferationsproceedingfromamanwoundedinhispaternalpride，declaringhimselfobviouslyaccursedsinceoneofhiskidswasa`slobberingidjutandtheotherawickedshe—devil’。Itwasofherthatthishadbeensaidmanyyearsago。
MrsVerlocheardthewordsagaininaghostlyfashion，andthenthedrearyshadowoftheBelgravianmansiondescendeduponhershoulders。Itwasacrushingmemory，anexhaustingvisionofcountlessbreakfasttrayscarriedupanddowninnumerablestairs，ofendlesshagglingoverpence，oftheendlessdrudgeryofsweeping，dusting，cleaning，frombasementtoattics;whiletheimpotentmother，staggeringonswollenlegs，cookedinagrimykitchen，andpoorStevie，theunconsciouspresidinggeniusofalltheirtoil，blackedthegentlemen’sbootsinthescullery。ButthisvisionhadabreathofahotLondonsummerinit，andforacentralfigureayoungmanwearinghisSundaybest，withastrawhatonhisdarkheadandawoodenpipeinhismouth。Affectionateandjolly，hewasafascinatingcompanionforavoyagedownthesparklingstreamoflife;onlyhisboatwasverysmall。Therewasroominitforagirl—partnerattheoar，butnoaccommodationforpassengers。HewasallowedtodriftawayfromthethresholdoftheBelgravianmansionwhileWinnieavertedhertearfuleyes。Hewasnotalodger。ThelodgerwasMrVerloc，indolentandkeepinglatehours，sleepilyjocularofamorningfromunderhisbed—clothes，butwithgleamsofinfatuationinhisheavy—liddedeyes，andalwayswithsomemoneyinhispockets。Therewasnosparkleofanykindonthelazystreamofhislife。Itflowedthroughsecretplaces。Buthisbarqueseemedaroomycraft，andhistaciturnmagnanimityacceptedasamatterofcoursethepresenceofpassengers。
MrsVerlocpursuedthevisionsofsevenyears’securityforStevieloyallypaidforonherpart;ofsecuritygrowingintoconfidence，intoadomesticfeeling，stagnantanddeeplikeaplacidpool，whoseguardedsurfacehardlyshudderedontheoccasionalpassageofComradeOssipon，therobustanarchistwithshamelesslyinvitingeyes，whoseglancehadacorruptclearnesssufficienttoenlightenanywomannotabsolutelyimbecile。
Afewsecondsonlyhadelapsedsincethelastwordhadbeenutteredaloudinthekitchen，andMrsVerlocwasstaringalreadyatthevisionofanepisodenotmorethanafortnightold。WitheyeswhosepupilswereextremelydilatedshestaredatthevisionofherhusbandandpoorSteviewalkingupBrettStreetsidebysideawayfromtheshop。ItwasthelastsceneofanexistencecreatedbyMrsVerloc’sgenius;anexistenceforeigntoallgraceandcharm，withoutbeautyandalmostwithoutdecency，butadmirableinthecontinuityoffeelingandtenacityofpurpose。Andthislastvisionhadsuchplasticrelief，suchnearnessofform，suchafidelityofsuggestivedetail，thatitwrungfromMrsVerlocananguishedandfaintmurmur，reproducingthesupremeillusionofherlife，anappalledmurmurthatdiedoutonherblanchedlips。
`Mighthavebeenfatherandson。’
MrVerlocstopped，andraisedacarewornface。`Eh？Whatdidyousay？’
heasked。Receivingnoreply，heresumedhissinistertramping。Thenwithamenacingflourishofathick，fleshyfist，heburstout:
`Yes。TheEmbassypeople。Aprettylot，ain’tthey！Beforeaweek’soutI’llmakesomeofthemwishthemselvestwentyfeetunderground。Eh？
What？’
Heglancedsideways，withhisheaddown。MrsVerlocgazedatthewhitewashedwall。Ablankwall—perfectlyblank。Ablanknesstorunatanddashyourheadagainst。MrsVerlocremainedimmovablyseated。Shekeptstillasthepopulationofhalftheglobewouldkeepstillinastonishmentanddespair，werethesunsuddenlyputoutinthesummerskybytheperfidyofatrustedprovidence。
`TheEmbassy，’MrVerlocbeganagain，afterapreliminarygrimacewhichbaredhisteethwolfishly。`IwishIcouldgetlooseintherewithacudgelforhalfanhour。Iwouldkeeponhittingtilltherewasn’tasingleunbrokenboneleftamongstthewholelot。Butnevermind，I’llteachthemyetwhatitmeanstryingtothrowoutamanlikemetorotinthestreets。I’veatongueinmyhead。AlltheworldshallknowwhatI’vedoneforthem。
Iamnotafraid。Idon’tcare。Everything’llcomeout。Everydamnedthing。
Letthemlookout！’