taken impression that the value of individuals consists in what they
are in themselves, he could not possibly comprehend the value of Stevie
in the eyes of Mrs Verloc. She was taking it confoundedly hard, he
thought to himself. It was all the fault of that damned Heat. What did
he want to upset the woman for? But she mustn't be allowed, for her own
good, to carry on so till she got quite beside herself.

"Look here! You can't sit like this in the shop," he said with affected
severity, in which there was some real annoyance; for urgent practical
matters must be talked over if they had to sit up all night. "Somebody
might come in at any minute," he added, and waited again. No effect was
produced, and the idea of the finality of death occurred to Mr Verloc
during the pause. He changed his tone. "Come. This won't bring him
back," he said gently, feeling ready to take her in his arms and press
her to his breast, where impatience and compassion dwelt side by side.
But except for a short shudder Mrs Verloc remained apparently unaffected
by the force of that terrible truism. It was Mr Verloc himself who was
moved. He was moved in his simplicity to urge moderation by asserting
the claims of his own personality.

"Do be reasonable, Winnie. What would it have been if you had lost me!"

He had vaguely expected to hear her cry out. But she did not budge. She
leaned back a little, quieted down to a complete unreadable stillness.
Mr Verloc's heart began to beat faster with exasperation and something
resembling alarm. He laid his hand on her shoulder, saying:

"Don't be a fool, Winnie."

She gave no sign. It was impossible to talk to any purpose with a woman
whose face one cannot see. Mr Verloc caught hold of his wife's wrists.
But her hands seemed glued fast. She swayed forward bodily to his tug,
and nearly went off the chair. Startled to feel her so helplessly limp,
he was trying to put her back on the chair when she stiffened suddenly
all over, tore herself out of his hands, ran out of the shop, across the
parlour, and into the kitchen. This was very swift. He had just a
glimpse of her face and that much of her eyes that he knew she had not
looked at him.

It all had the appearance of a struggle for the possession of a chair,
because Mr Verloc instantly took his wife's place in it. Mr Verloc did
not cover his face with his hands, but a sombre thoughtfulness veiled his
features. A term of imprisonment cou