th the visions of the past, she had not only heard, but had also
understood the words uttered by her husband. By their extreme disaccord
with her mental condition these words produced on her a slightly
suffocating effect. Mrs Verloc's mental condition had the merit of
simplicity; but it was not sound. It was governed too much by a fixed
idea. Every nook and cranny of her brain was filled with the thought
that this man, with whom she had lived without distaste for seven years,
had taken the "poor boy" away from her in order to kill him--the man to
whom she had grown accustomed in body and mind; the man whom she had
trusted, took the boy away to kill him! In its form, in its substance,
in its effect, which was universal, altering even the aspect of inanimate
things, it was a thought to sit still and marvel at for ever and ever.
Mrs Verloc sat still. And across that thought (not across the kitchen)
the form of Mr Verloc went to and fro, familiarly in hat and overcoat,
stamping with his boots upon her brain. He was probably talking too; but
Mrs Verloc's thought for the most part covered the voice.

Now and then, however, the voice would make itself heard. Several
connected words emerged at times. Their purport was generally hopeful.
On each of these occasions Mrs Verloc's dilated pupils, losing their
far-off fixity, followed her husband's movements with the effect of black
care and, impenetrable attention. Well informed upon all matters
relating to his secret calling, Mr Verloc augured well for the success of
his plans and combinations. He really believed that it would be upon the
whole easy for him to escape the knife of infuriated revolutionists. He
had exaggerated the strength of their fury and the length of their arm
(for professional purposes) too often to have many illusions one way or
the other. For to exaggerate with judgment one must begin by measuring
with nicety. He knew also how much virtue and how much infamy is
forgotten in two years--two long years. His first really confidential
discourse to his wife was optimistic from conviction. He also thought it
good policy to display all the assurance he could muster. It would put
heart into the poor woman. On his liberation, which, harmonising with
the whole tenor of his life, would be secret, of course, they would
vanish together without loss of time. As to covering up the tracks, he
begged his wife to trust him for that. He knew how it was to be don