m. Her contract with existence, as represented by that
man standing over there, was at an end. She was a free woman. Had this
view become in some way perceptible to Mr Verloc he would have been
extremely shocked. In his affairs of the heart Mr Verloc had been always
carelessly generous, yet always with no other idea than that of being
loved for himself. Upon this matter, his ethical notions being in
agreement with his vanity, he was completely incorrigible. That this
should be so in the case of his virtuous and legal connection he was
perfectly certain. He had grown older, fatter, heavier, in the belief
that he lacked no fascination for being loved for his own sake. When he
saw Mrs Verloc starting to walk out of the kitchen without a word he was
disappointed.

"Where are you going to?" he called out rather sharply. "Upstairs?"

Mrs Verloc in the doorway turned at the voice. An instinct of prudence
born of fear, the excessive fear of being approached and touched by that
man, induced her to nod at him slightly (from the height of two steps),
with a stir of the lips which the conjugal optimism of Mr Verloc took for
a wan and uncertain smile.

"That's right," he encouraged her gruffly. "Rest and quiet's what you
want. Go on. It won't be long before I am with you."

Mrs Verloc, the free woman who had had really no idea where she was going
to, obeyed the suggestion with rigid steadiness.

Mr Verloc watched her. She disappeared up the stairs. He was
disappointed. There was that within him which would have been more
satisfied if she had been moved to throw herself upon his breast. But he
was generous and indulgent. Winnie was always undemonstrative and
silent. Neither was Mr Verloc himself prodigal of endearments and words
as a rule. But this was not an ordinary evening. It was an occasion
when a man wants to be fortified and strengthened by open proofs of
sympathy and affection. Mr Verloc sighed, and put out the gas in the
kitchen. Mr Verloc's sympathy with his wife was genuine and intense. It
almost brought tears into his eyes as he stood in the parlour reflecting
on the loneliness hanging over her head. In this mood Mr Verloc missed
Stevie very much out of a difficult world. He thought mournfully of his
end. If only that lad had not stupidly destroyed himself!

The sensation of unappeasable hunger, not unknown after the strain of a
hazardous enterprise to adventurers of tougher fibre than Mr V