Hewasreposinginthatpatheticconditionofoptimisminducedbyexcessoffatigue。Hedidnotwantanymoretrouble—withhiswife，too—ofallpeopleintheworld。Hehadbeenunanswerableinhisvindication。Hewaslovedforhimself。Thepresentphaseofhersilenceheinterpretedfavourably。Thiswasthetimetomakeitupwithher。Thesilencehadlastedlongenough。Hebrokeitbycallingtoherinanundertone:
　　`Winnie。’
　　`Yes，’answeredobedientlyMrsVerlocthefreewoman。Shecommandedherwitsnow，hervocalorgans;shefeltherselftobeinanalmostpreternaturallyperfectcontrolofeveryfibreofherbody。Itwasallherown，becausethebargainwasatanend。Shewasclearsighted。Shehadbecomecunning。
　　Shechosetoanswerhimsoreadilyforapurpose。Shedidnotwishthatmantochangehispositiononthesofawhichwasverysuitabletothecircumstances。
　　Shesucceeded。Themandidnotstir。Butafteransweringhimsheremainedleaningnegligentlyagainstthemantelpieceintheattitudeofarestingwayfarer。Shewasunhurried。Herbrowwassmooth。TheheadandshouldersofMrVerlocwerehiddenfromherbythehighsideofthesofa。Shekepthereyesfixedonhisfeet。
　　SheremainedthusmysteriouslystillandsuddenlycollectedtillMrVerlocwasheardwithanaccentofmaritalauthority，andmovingslightlytomakeroomforhertositontheedgeofthesofa。
　　`Comehere，’hesaidinapeculiartone，whichmighthavebeenthetoneofbrutality，butwasintimatelyknowntoMrsVerlocasthenoteofwooing。
　　Shestartedforwardatonce，asifshewasstillaloyalwomanboundtothatmanbyanunbrokencontract。Herrighthadskimmedslightlytheendofthetable，andwhenshehadpassedontowardsthesofathecarvingknifehadvanishedwithouttheslightestsoundfromthesideofthedish。
　　MrVerlocheardthecreakyplankinthefloor，andwascontent。Hewaited。
　　MrsVerlocwascoming。AsifthehomelesssoulofSteviehadflownforshelterstraighttothebreastofhissister，guardianandprotector，theresemblanceofherfacewiththatofherbrothergrewateverystep，eventothedroopofthelowerlip，eventotheslightdivergenceoftheeyes。
　　ButMrVerlocdidnotseethat。Hewaslyingonhisbackandstaringupwards。
　　Hesawpartlyontheceilingaclenchedhandholdingacarvingknife。Itflickeredupanddown。Itsmovementswereleisurely。TheywereleisurelyenoughforMrVerloctorecognizethelimbandtheweapon。
　　Theywereleisurelyenoughforhimtotakeinthefullmeaningoftheportent，andtotastetheflavourofdeathrisinginhisgorge。Hiswifehadgoneravingmad—murderingmad。Theywereleisurelyenoughforthefirstparalysingeffectofthisdiscoverytopassawaybeforearesolutedeterminationtocomeoutvictoriousfromtheghastlystrugglewiththatarmedlunatic。TheywereleisurelyenoughforMrVerloctoelaborateaplanofdefence，involvingadashbehindthetable，andthefellingofthewomantothegroundwithaheavywoodenchair。ButtheywerenotleisurelyenoughtoallowMrVerlocthetimetomoveeitherhandorfoot。Theknifewasalreadyplantedinhisbreast。Itmetnoresistanceonitsway。Hazardhassuchaccuracies。Intothatplungingblow，deliveredoverthesideofthecouch，MrsVerlochadputalltheinheritanceofherimmemorialandobscuredescent，thesimpleferocityoftheageofcaverns，andtheunbalancednervousfuryoftheageofbar—rooms。MrVerloc，thesecretagent，turningslightlyonhissidewiththeforceoftheblow，expiredwithoutstirringalimb，inthemutteredsoundoftheword`Don’t’bywayofprotest。
　　MrsVerlochadletgotheknife，andherextraordinaryresemblancetoherlatebrotherhadfaded，hadbecomeveryordinary。Shedrewadeepbreath，thefirsteasybreathsinceChiefInspectorHeathadexhibitedtoherthelabelledpieceofStevie’sovercoat。Sheleanedforwardonherfoldedarmsoverthesideofthesofa。SheadoptedthateasyattitudenotinordertowatchorgloatoverthebodyofMrVerloc，butbecauseoftheundulatoryandswingingmovementsoftheparlour，whichforsometimebehavedasthoughitwereatseainatempest。Shewasgiddybutcalm。Shehadbecomeafreewomanwithaperfectionoffreedomwhichlefthernothingtodesireandabsolutelynothingtodo，sinceStevie’surgentclaimonherdevotionnolongerexisted。MrsVerloc，whothoughtinimages，wasnottroublednowbyvisions，becauseshedidnotthinkatall。Andshedidnotmove。Shewasawomanenjoyinghercompleteirresponsibilityandendlessleisure，almostinthemannerofacorpse。Shedidnotmove，shedidnotthink。
　　NeitherdidthemortalenvelopeofthelateMrVerlocreposingonthesofa。
　　ExceptforthefactthatMrsVerlocbreathedthesetwowouldhavebeenperfectlyinaccord:thataccordofprudentreservewithoutsuperfluouswords，andsparingofsigns，whichhadbeenthefoundationoftheirrespectablehomelife。Forithadbeenrespectable，coveringbyadecentreticencetheproblemsthatmayariseinthepracticeofasecretprofessionandthecommerceofshadywares。Tothelastitsdecorumhadremainedundisturbedbyunseemlyshrieksandothermisplacedsinceritiesofconduct。Andafterthestrikingoftheblow，thisrespectabilitywascontinuedinimmobilityandsilence。
　　NothingmovedintheparlourtillMrsVerlocraisedherheadslowlyandlookedattheclockwithinquiringmistrust。Shehadbecomeawareofatickingsoundintheroom。Itgrewuponherear，whilesherememberedclearlythattheclockonthewallwassilent，hadnoaudibletick。Whatdiditmeanbybeginningtoticksoloudlyallofasudden？Itsfaceindicatedtenminutestonine。MrsVerloccarednothingfortime，andthetickingwenton。Sheconcludeditcouldnotbetheclock，andhersullengazemovedalongthewalls，wavered，andbecamevague，whileshestrainedherhearingColocatethesound。Tic，tic，tic。
　　AfterlisteningforsometimeMrVerlocloweredhergazedeliberatelyonherhusband’sbody。Itsattitudeofreposewassohomelikeandfamiliarthatshecoulddosowithoutfeelingembarrassedbyanypronouncednoveltyinthephenomenaofherhomelife。MrVerlocwastakinghishabitualease。
　　Helookedcomfortable。
　　BythepositionofthebodythefaceofMrVerlocwasnotvisibletoMrsVerloc，hiswidow。Herfine，sleepyeyes，travellingdownwardonthetrackofthesound，becamecontemplativeonmeetingaflatobjectofbonewhichprotrudedalittlebeyondtheedgeofthesofa。ItwasthehandleofthedomesticcarvingknifewithnothingstrangeaboutitbutitspositionatrightanglestoMrVerloc’swaistcoatandthefactthatsomethingdrippedfromit。Darkdropsfellonthefloorclothoneafteranother，withasoundoftickinggrowingfastandfuriouslikethepulseofaninsaneclock。
　　Atitshighestspeedthistickingchangedintoacontinuoussoundoftrickling。
　　MrsVerlocwatchedthattransformationwithshadowsofanxietycomingandgoingonherface。Itwasatrickle，dark，swift，thin……Blood！
　　AtthisunforeseencircumstanceMrsVerlocabandonedherposeofidlenessandirresponsibility。
　　Withasuddensnatchatherskirtsandafaintshrieksherantothedoor，asifthetricklehadbeenthefirstsignofadestroyingflood。
　　Findingthetableinherwayshegaveitapushwithbothhandsasthoughithadbeenalive，withsuchforcethatitwentforsomedistanceonitsfourlegs，makingaloud，scrapingracket，whilstthebigdishwiththejointcrashedheavilyonthefloor。
　　Thenallbecamestill。MrsVerloconreachingthedoorhadstopped。
　　Aroundhatdisclosedinthemiddleofthefloorbythemovingofthetablerockedslightlyonitscrowninthewindofherflight。
　　CONRAD:TheSecretAgent，Chapter12CHAPTER12
　　WINNIEVERLOC，thewidowofMrVerloc，thesisterofthelatefaithfulStevie（blowntofragmentsinastateofinnocenceandintheconvictionofbeingengagedinahumanitarianenterprise），didnotrunbeyondthedooroftheparlour。Shehadindeedrunawaysofarfromameretrickleofblood，butthatwasamovementofinstinctiverepulsion。Andthereshehadpaused，withstaringeyesandloweredhead。Asthoughshehadrunthroughlongyearsinherflightacrossthesmallparlour，MrsVerlocbythedoorwasquiteadifferentpersonfromthewomanwhohadbeenleaningoverthesofa，alittleswimmyinherhead，butotherwisefreetoenjoytheprofoundcalmofidlenessandirresponsibility……MrsVerlocwasnolongergiddy。
　　Herheadwassteady。Ontheotherhand，shewasnolongercalm。Shewasafraid。
　　Ifsheavoidedlookinginthedirectionofherreposinghusbanditwasnotbecauseshewasafraidofhim。MrVerlocwasnotfrightfultobehold。
　　Helookedcomfortable。Moreover，hewasdead。MrsVerlocentertainednovain`delusionsonthesubject’ofthedead。Nothingbringsthemback，neitherlovenorhate。Theycandonothingtoyou。Theyareasnothing。
　　Hermentalstatewastingedbyasortofausterecontemptforthatmanwhohadlethimselfbekilledsoeasily。Hehadbeenthemasterofahouse，thehusbandofawoman，andthemurdererofherStevie。Andnowhewasofnoaccountineveryrespect。Hewasoflesspracticalaccountthantheclothingonhisbody，thanhisovercoat，thanhisboots—thanthathatlyingonthefloor。Hewasnothing。Hewasnotworthlookingat。HewasevennolongerthemurdererofpoorStevie。TheonlymurdererthatwouldbefoundintheroomwhenpeoplecametolookforMrVerlocwouldbe—
　　herself！
　　Herhandsshooksothatshefailedtwiceinthetaskofrefasteningherveil。MrsVerlocwasnolongerapersonofleisureandirresponsibility。
　　Shewasafraid。ThestabbingofMrVerlochadbeenonlyablow。Ithadrelievedthepent—upagonyofshrieksstrangledinherthroat，oftearsdriedupinherhoteyes，ofthemaddeningandindignantrageattheatrociouspartplayedbythatman，whowaslessthannothingnow，inrobbingheroftheboy。Ithadbeenanobscurelypromptedblow。Thebloodtricklingontheflooroffthehandleoftheknifehadturneditintoanextremelyplaincaseofmurder。MrsVerloc，whoalwaysrefrainedfromlookingdeepintothings，wascompelledtolookintotheverybottomofthisthing。
　　Shesawtherenohauntingface，noreproachfulshade，novisionofremorse，nosortofidealconception。Shesawthereanobject。Thatobjectwasthegallows。MrsVerlocwasafraidofthegallows。
　　Shewasterrifiedofthemideally。Havingneverseteyesonthelastargumentofmen’sjusticeexceptinillustrativewoodcutstoacertaintypeoftales，shefirstsawthemerectagainstablackandstormybackground，festoonedwithchainsandhumanbones，circledaboutbybirdsthatpeckatdeadmen’seyes。Thiswasfrightfulenough，butMrsVerloc，thoughnotawell—informedwoman，hadasufficientknowledgeoftheinstitutionsofhercountrytoknowthatgallowsarenolongererectedromanticallyonthebanksofdismalriversoronwind—sweptheadlands，butintheyardsofjails。Therewithinfourhighwalls，asifintoapit，atdawnofday，themurdererwasbroughtouttobeexecuted，withahorriblequietnessand，asthereportsinthenewspapersalwayssaid，`inthepresenceoftheauthorities’。Withhereyesstaringonthefloor，hernostrilsquiveringwithanguishandshame，sheimaginedherselfallaloneamongstalotofstrangegentlemeninsilkhatswhowerecalmlyproceedingaboutthebusinessofhangingherbytheneck。That—never！Never！Andhowwasitdone？Theimpossibilityofimaginingthedetailsofsuchquietexecutionaddedsomethingmaddeningtoherabstractterror。Thenewspapersnevergaveanydetailsexceptone，butthatonewithsomeaffectionwasalwaysthereattheendofameagrereport。MrsVerlocremembereditsnature。Itcamewithacruelburningpainintoherhead，asifthewords`Thedropgivenwasfourteenfeet’hadbeenscratchedonherbrainwithahotneedle。`Thedropgivenwasfourteenfeet。’
　　Thesewordsaffectedherphysically，too。Herthroatbecameconvulsedinwavestoresiststrangulation;andtheapprehensionofthejerkwassovividthatsheseizedherheadinbothhandsasiftosaveitfrombeingtornoffhershoulders。`Thedropgivenwasfourteenfeet。’No！thatmustneverbe。Shecouldnotstandthat。Thethoughtofitevenwasnotbearable。
　　Shecouldnotstandthinkingofit。ThereforeMrsVerlocformedtheresolutiontogoatonceandthrowherselfintotheriveroffoneofthebridges。
　　Thistimeshemanagedtorefastenherveil。Withherfaceasifmasked，allblackfromheadtofootexceptforsomeflowersinherhat，shelookedupmechanicallyattheclock。Shethoughtitmusthavestopped。Shecouldnotbelievethatonlytwominuteshadpassedsinceshehadlookedatitlast。Ofcoursenot。Ithadbeenstoppedallthetime。Asamatteroffact，onlythreeminuteshadelapsedfromthemomentshehaddrawnthefirstdeep，easybreathaftertheblow，tothismomentwhenMrsVerlocformedtheresolutiontodrownherselfintheThames。ButMrsVerloccouldnotbelievethat。Sheseemedtohaveheardorreadthatclocksandwatchesalwaysstoppedatthemomentofmurderfortheundoingofthemurderer。
　　Shedidnotcare。`Tothebridge—andoverIgo。’……Buthermovementswereslow。
　　Shedraggedherselfpainfullyacrosstheshop，andhadtoholdontothehandleofthedoorbeforeshefoundthenecessaryfortitudetoopenit。Thestreetfrightenedher，sinceitledeithertothegallowsortotheriver。Sheflounderedoverthedoorstepheadforward，armsthrownout，likeapersonfallingovertheparapetofabridge。Thisentranceintotheopenairhadaforetasteofdrowning;aslimydampnessenvelopedher，enteredhernostrils，clungtoherhair。Itwasnotactuallyraining，buteachgaslamphadarustylittlehaloofmist。Thevanandhorsesweregone，andintheblackstreetthecurtainedwindowofthecarters’eating—housemadeasquarepatchofsoiledblood—redlightglowingfaintlyverynearthelevelofthepavement。MrsVerloc，draggingherselfslowlytowardsit，thoughtthatshewasaveryfriendlesswoman。Itwastrue。Itwassotruethat，inasuddenlongingtoseesomefriendlyface，shecouldthinkofnooneelsebutofMrsNeale，thecharwoman。Shehadnoacquaintancesofherown。Nobodywouldmissherinasocialway。ItmustnotbeimaginedthattheWidowVerlochadforgottenhermother。Thiswasnotso。Winniehadbeenagooddaughterbecauseshehadbeenadevotedsister。Hermotherhadalwaysleanedonherforsupport。Noconsolationoradvicecouldbeexpectedthere。NowthatSteviewasdeadthebondseemedtobebroken。
　　Shecouldnotfacetheoldwomanwiththehorribletale。Moreover，itwastoofar。Theriverwasherpresentdestination。MrsVerloctriedtoforgethermother。
　　Eachstepcostheraneffortofwillwhichseemedthelastpossible。
　　MrsVerlochaddraggedherselfpasttheredglowoftheeating—housewindow。
　　`Tothebridge—andoverIgo，’sherepeatedtoherselfwithfierceobstinacy。
　　Sheputoutherhandjustintimetosteadyherselfagainstalamp—post。
　　`I’llnevergettherebeforemorning，’shethought。Thefearofdeathparalysedhereffortstoescapethegallows。Itseemedtohershehadbeenstaggeringinthatstreetforhours。`I’llnevergetthere，’shethought。`They’llfindmeknockingaboutthestreets。It’stoofar。’Sheheldon，pantingunderherblackveil。
　　`Thedropgivenwasfourteenfeet。’
　　Shepushedthelamp—postawayfromherviolently，andfoundherselfwalking。Butanotherwaveoffaintnessovertookherlikeagreatsea，washingawayherheartcleanoutofherbreast。`Iwillnevergetthere，’shemuttered，suddenlyarrested，swayinglightlywhereshestood。`Never。’
　　Andperceivingtheutterimpossibilityofwalkingasfarasthenearestbridge，MrsVerlocthoughtofaflightabroad。
　　Itcametohersuddenly。Murderersescaped。Theyescapedabroad。SpainorCalifornia。Merenames。ThevastworldcreatedforthegloryofmanwasonlyavastblanktoMrsVerloc。Shedidnotknowwhichwaytoturn。
　　Murderershadfriends，relations，helpers—theyhadknowledge。Shehadnothing。Shewasthemostlonelyofmurderersthateverstruckamortalblow。ShewasaloneinLondon:andthewholetownofmarvelsandmud，withitsmazeofstreetsanditsmassoflights，wassunkinahopelessnight，restedatthebottomofablackabyssfromwhichnounaidedwomancouldhopetoscrambleout。
　　Sheswayedforward，andmadeafreshstartblindly，withanawfuldreadoffallingdown;butattheendofafewsteps，unexpectedly，shefoundasensationofsupport，ofsecurity。Raisingherhead，shesawaman’sfacepeeringcloselyatherveil。ComradeOssiponwasnotafraidofstrangewomen，andnofeelingoffalsedelicacycouldpreventhimfromstrikinganacquaintancewithawomanapparentlyverymuchintoxicated。ComradeOssiponwasinterestedinwomen。Heheldupthisonebetweenhistwolargepalms，peeringatherinabusiness—likewaytillheheardhersayfaintly`MrOssipon！’andthenheverynearlyletherdroptotheground。
　　`MrsVerloc！’heexclaimed。`Youhere！’
　　Itseemedimpossibletohimthatsheshouldhavebeendrinking。Butoneneverknows。Hedidnotgointothatquestion，butattentivenottodiscouragekindfatesurrenderingtohimthewidowofComradeVerloc，hetriedtodrawhertohisbreast。Tohisastonishmentshecamequiteeasily，andevenrestedonhisarmforamomentbeforesheattemptedtodisengageherself。ComradeOssiponwouldnotbebrusquewithkindfate。Hewithdrewhisarminanaturalway。
　　`Yourecognizedme，’shefalteredout，standingbeforehim，fairlysteadyonherlegs。
　　`OfcourseIdid，’saidOssiponwithperfectreadiness。`Iwasafraidyouweregoingtofall。I’vethoughtofyoutoooftenlatelynottorecognizeyouanywhere，atanytime。I’vealwaysthoughtofyou—eversinceIfirstseteyesonyou。MrsVerlocseemednottohear。`Youwerecomingtotheshop？’shesaid，nervously。
　　`Yes;atonce，’answeredOssipon。`DirectlyIreadthepaper。’
　　Infact，ComradeOssiponhadbeenskulkingforagoodtwohoursintheneighbourhoodofBrettStreet，unabletomakeuphismindforaboldmove。
　　Therobustanarchistwasnotexactlyaboldconqueror。HerememberedthatMrsVerlochadneverrespondedtohisglancesbytheslightestsignofencouragement。Besides，hethoughttheshopmightbewatchedbythepolice，andComradeOssipondidnotwishthepolicetoformanexaggeratednotionofhisrevolutionarysympathies。Evennowhedidnotknowpreciselywhattodo。Incomparisonwithhisusualamatoryspeculationsthiswasabigandseriousundertaking。Heignoredhowmuchtherewasinitandhowfarhewouldhavetogoinordertogetholdofwhattherewastoget—supposingtherewasachanceatall。Theseperplexitiescheckinghiselationimpartedtohistoneasobernesswellinkeepingwiththecircumstances。
　　`MayIaskyouwhereyouweregoing？’heinquiredinasubduedvoice。
　　`Don’taskme！’criedMrsVerlocwithashuddering，repressedviolence。
　　Allherstrongvitalityrecoiledfromtheideaofdeath。`Nevermindwhere1wasgoing……’
　　Ossiponconcludedthatshewasverymuchexcitedbutperfectlysober。
　　Sheremainedsilentbyhissideforamoment，thenallatonceshedidsomethingwhichhedidnotexpect。Sheslippedherhandunderhisarm。
　　Hewasstartledbytheactitselfcertainly，andquiteasmuch，too，bythepalpablyresolutecharacterofthismovement。Butthisbeingadelicateaffair，ComradeOssiponbehavedwith，delicacy。Hecontentedhimselfbypressingthehandslightlyagainsthisrobustribs。Atthesametimehefelthimselfbeingimpelledforward，andyieldedtotheimpulse。AttheendofBrettStreethebecameawareofbeingdirectedtotheleft。Hesubmitted。
　　Thefruitereratthecornerhadputouttheblazinggloryofhisorangesandlemons，andBrettPlacewasalldarkness，interspersedwiththemistyhalosofthefewlampsdefiningitstriangularshape，withaclusterofthreelightsononestandinthemiddle。Thedarkformsofthemanandwomanglidedslowlyarminarmalongthewallswithaloverlikeandhomelessaspectinthemiserablenight。
　　`WhatwouldyousayifIweretotellyouthatIwasgoingtofindyou？’
　　MrsVerlocasked，grippinghisarmwithforce。
　　`Iwouldsaythatyoucouldn’tfindanyonemorereadytohelpyouinyourtrouble，’answeredOssipon，withanotionofmakingtremendousheadway。
　　Infact，theprogressofthisdelicateaffairwasalmosttakinghisbreathaway。
　　`Inmytrouble！’MrsVerlocrepeated，slowly。
　　`Yes。’
　　`Anddoyouknowwhatmytroubleis？’shewhisperedwithstrangeintensity。
　　`Tenminutesafterseeingtheeveningpaper，’explainedOssiponwithardour，`Imetafellowwhomyoumayhaveseenonceortwiceattheshopperhaps，andIhadatalkwithhimwhichleftnodoubtwhateverinmymind。
　　ThenIstartedforhere，wonderingwhetheryou—I’vebeenfondofyoubeyondwordseversinceIseteyesonyourface，’hecried，asifunabletocommandhisfeelings。
　　ComradeOssiponassumedcorrectlythatnowomanwascapableofwhollydisbelievingsuchastatement。ButhedidnotknowthatMrsVerlocaccepteditwithallthefiercenesstheinstinctofselfpreservationinpartstothegripofadrowningperson。TothewidowofMrVerloctherobustanarchistwaslikearadiantmessengeroflife。
　　Theywalkedslowly，instep。`Ithoughtso，’MrsVerlocmurmured，faintly。
　　`You’vereaditinmyeyes，’suggestedOssiponwithgreatassurance。
　　`Yes，’shebreathedoutintohisinclinedear。
　　`Alovelikeminecouldnotbeconcealedfromawomanlikeyou，’hewenton，tryingtodetachhismindfrommaterialconsiderations，suchasthebusinessvalueoftheshop，andtheamountofmoneyMrVerlocmighthaveleftinthebank。Heappliedhimselftothesentimentalsideoftheaffair。Inhisheartofheartshewasalittleshockedathissuccess。
　　Verlochadbeenagoodfellow，andcertainlyaverydecenthusbandasfarasonecouldsee。However，ComradeOssiponwasnotgoingtoquarrelwithhisluckforthesakeofadeadman。ResolutelyhesuppressedhissympathyfortheghostofComradeVerloc，andwenton:
　　`Icouldnotconcealit。Iwastoofullofyou。Idaresayyoucouldnothelpseeingitinmyeyes。ButIcouldnotguessit。Youwerealwayssodistant……’
　　`Whatelsedidyouexpect？’burstoutMrsVerloc。`Iwasarespectablewoman——’
　　Shepaused，thenadded，asifspeakingtoherself，insinisterresentment:
　　`TillhemademewhatIam。’
　　Ossiponletthatpass，andtookuphisrunning。
　　`Heneverdidseemtometobequiteworthyofyou，’hebegan，throwingloyaltytothewinds。`Youwereworthyofabetterfate。’
　　MrsVerlocinterruptedbitterly:
　　`Betterfate！Hecheatedmeoutofsevenyearsoflife。’
　　`Youseemedtolivesohappilywithhim。’Ossipontriedtoexculpatethelukewarmnessofhispastconduct。`It’sthatwhat’smademetimid。
　　Youseemedtolovehim。Iwassurprised—andjealous，’headded。
　　`Lovehim！’MrsVerloccriedoutinawhisperfullofscornandrage。
　　`Lovehim！Iwasagoodwifetohim。Iamarespectablewoman。YouthoughtIlovedhim！Youdid！Lookhere，Tom——’
　　ThesoundofthisnamethrilledComradeOssiponwithpride。ForhisnamewasAlexander，andhewascalledTombyarrangementwiththemostfamiliarofhisintimates。Itwasanameoffriendship—ofmomentsofexpansion。Hehadnoideathatshehadeverhearditusedbyanybody。Itwasapparentthatshehadnotonlycaughtit，buthadtreasureditinhermemory—perhapsinherheart。
　　`Lookhere，Tom！Iwasayounggirl。Iwasdoneup。Iwastired。IhadtwopeopledependingonwhatIcoulddo，anditdidseemasifIcouldn’tdoanymore。Twopeople—motherandtheboy。Hewasmuchmoreminethanmother’s。Isatupnightsandnightswithhimonmylap，allaloneupstairs，whenIwasn’tmorethaneightyearsoldmyself。Andthen—Hewasmine，Itellyou……Youcan’tunderstandthat。Nomancanunderstandit。WhatwasItodo？Therewasayoungfellow——’
　　Thememoryoftheearlyromancewiththeyoungbutchersurvived，tenacious，liketheimageofaglimpsedidealinthatheartquailingbeforethefearofthegallowsandfullofrevoltagainstdeath。
　　`ThatwasthemanIlovedthen，’wentonthewidowofMrVerloc。`I
　　supposehecouldseeitinmyeyes，too。Fiveandtwentyshillingsaweek，andhisfatherthreatenedtokickhimoutofthebusinessifhemadesuchafoolofhimselfastomarryagirlwithacrippledmotherandacrazyidiotofaboyonherhands。Buthewouldhangaboutme，tilloneeveningIfoundthecouragetoslamthedoorinhisface。Ihadtodoit。Ilovedhimdearly。Fiveandtwentyshillingsaweek！Therewasthatotherman—agoodlodger。Whatisagirltodo？CouldI’vegoneonthestreets？
　　Heseemedkind。Hewantedme，anyhow。WhatwasItodowithmotherandthatpoorboy？Eh？Isaidyes。Heseemedgood—natured，hewasfreehanded，hehadmoney，heneversaidanything。Sevenyears—sevenyearsagoodwifetohim，thekind，thegood，thegenerous，the—Andhelovedme。Oh，yes。HelovedmetillIsometimeswishedmyself—Sevenyears’Sevenyearsawifetohim。Anddoyouknowwhathewas，thatdearfriendofyours？
　　Doyouknowwhathewas？……Hewasadevil！’
　　ThesuperhumanvehemenceofthatwhisperedstatementcompletelystunnedComradeOssipon。WinnieVerlocturningaboutheldhimbybotharms，facinghimunderthefallingmistinthedarknessandsolitudeofBrettPlace，inwhichallsoundsoflifeseemedlostasifinatriangularwellofasphaltandbricks，ofblindhousesandunfeelingstones。
　　`No;Ididn’tknow，’hedeclared，withasortofflabbystupidity，whosecomicalaspectwaslostuponawomanhauntedbythefearofthegallows。
　　`ButIdonow。I—Iunderstand，’heflounderedon，hismindspeculatingastowhatsortofatrocitiesVerloccouldhavepractisedunderthesleepy，placidappearancesofhismarriedestate。Itwaspositivelyawful。`Iunderstand，’
　　herepeated，andthenbyasuddeninspirationutteredan`Unhappywoman！’
　　ofloftycommiserationinsteadofthemorefamiliar`Poordarling！’ofhisusualpractice。Thiswasnousualcase。Hefeltconsciousofsomethingabnormalgoingon，whileheneverlostsightofthegreatnessofthestake。
　　`Unhappy，bravewoman！’
　　Hewasgladtohavediscoveredthatvariation;buthecoulddiscovernothingelse。`Ah，butheisdeadnow，’wasthebesthecoulddo。Andheputaremarkableamountofanimosityintohisguardedexclamation。MrsVerloccaughtathisarmwithasortoffrenzy。`Youguessedthenhewasdead，’shemurmured，asifbesideherself。`You！YouguessedwhatIhadtodo。Hadto！’
　　Thereweresuggestionsoftriumph，relief，gratitudeintheindefinabletoneofthesewords。ItengrossedthewholeattentionofOssipontothedetrimentofmereliteralsense。Hewonderedwhatwasupwithher，whyshehadworkedherselfintothisstateofwildexcitement。HeevenbegantowonderwhetherthehiddencausesofthatGreenwichParkaffairdidnotliedeepintheunhappycircumstancesoftheVerlocs’marriedlife。HewentsofarastosuspectMrVerlocofhavingselectedthatextraordinarymannerofcommittingsuicide。ByJove！thatwouldaccountfortheutterinanityandwrong—headednessofthething。Noanarchistmanifestationwasrequiredbythecircumstances。Quitethecontrary:andVerlocwasaswellawareofthatasanyotherrevolutionistofhisstanding。WhatanimmensejokeifVerlochadsimplymadefoolsofthewholeofEurope，oftherevolutionaryworld，ofthepolice，ofthepress，andofthecocksureProfessoraswell。
　　Indeed，thoughtOssiponinastonishment，itseemedalmostcertainthathedid！Poorbeggar！Itstruckhimasverypossiblethatofthathouseholdoftwoitwasn’tpreciselythemanwhowasthedevil。
　　AlexanderOssipon，nicknamedtheDoctor，wasnaturallyinclinedtothinkindulgentlyofhismenfriends。HeeyedMrsVerlochangingonhisarm。
　　Ofhiswomenfriendshethoughtinaspeciallypracticalway。WhyMrsVerlocshouldexclaimathisknowledgeofMrVerloc’sdeath，whichwasnoguessatall，didnotdisturbhimbeyondmeasure。Womenoftentalkedlikelunatics。