is perfectly safe to use. You understand? The bank
has no means of knowing that Mr Verloc and, say, Smith are one and the
same person. Do you see how important it is that you should make no
mistake in answering me? Can you answer that query at all? Perhaps not.
Eh?"

She said composedly:

"I remember now! He didn't bank in his own name. He told me once that
it was on deposit in the name of Prozor."

"You are sure?"

"Certain."

"You don't think the bank had any knowledge of his real name? Or anybody
in the bank or--"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"How can I know? Is it likely, Tom?

"No. I suppose it's not likely. It would have been more comfortable to
know. . . . Here we are. Get out first, and walk straight in. Move
smartly."

He remained behind, and paid the cabman out of his own loose silver. The
programme traced by his minute foresight was carried out. When Mrs
Verloc, with her ticket for St Malo in her hand, entered the ladies'
waiting-room, Comrade Ossipon walked into the bar, and in seven minutes
absorbed three goes of hot brandy and water.

"Trying to drive out a cold," he explained to the barmaid, with a
friendly nod and a grimacing smile. Then he came out, bringing out from
that festive interlude the face of a man who had drunk at the very
Fountain of Sorrow. He raised his eyes to the clock. It was time. He
waited.

Punctual, Mrs Verloc came out, with her veil down, and all black--black
as commonplace death itself, crowned with a few cheap and pale flowers.
She passed close to a little group of men who were laughing, but whose
laughter could have been struck dead by a single word. Her walk was
indolent, but her back was straight, and Comrade Ossipon looked after it
in terror before making a start himself.

The train was drawn up, with hardly anybody about its row of open doors.
Owing to the time of the year and to the abominable weather there were
hardly any passengers. Mrs Verloc walked slowly along the line of empty
compartments till Ossipon touched her elbow from behind.

"In here."

She got in, and he remained on the platform looking about. She bent
forward, and in a whisper:

"What is it, Tom? Is there any danger? Wait a moment. There's the
guard."

She saw him accost the man in uniform. They talked for a while. She
heard the guard say "Very well, sir," and saw him touch his cap. Then
Ossipon came back, saying: "I told him not to let anybody get into our