e so
that the devil himself--

He waved his hand. He seemed to boast. He wished only to put heart into
her. It was a benevolent intention, but Mr Verloc had the misfortune not
to be in accord with his audience.

The self-confident tone grew upon Mrs Verloc's ear which let most of the
words go by; for what were words to her now? What could words do to her,
for good or evil in the face of her fixed idea? Her black glance
followed that man who was asserting his impunity--the man who had taken
poor Stevie from home to kill him somewhere. Mrs Verloc could not
remember exactly where, but her heart began to beat very perceptibly.

Mr Verloc, in a soft and conjugal tone, was now expressing his firm
belief that there were yet a good few years of quiet life before them
both. He did not go into the question of means. A quiet life it must be
and, as it were, nestling in the shade, concealed among men whose flesh
is grass; modest, like the life of violets. The words used by Mr Verloc
were: "Lie low for a bit." And far from England, of course. It was not
clear whether Mr Verloc had in his mind Spain or South America; but at
any rate somewhere abroad.

This last word, falling into Mrs Verloc's ear, produced a definite
impression. This man was talking of going abroad. The impression was
completely disconnected; and such is the force of mental habit that Mrs
Verloc at once and automatically asked herself: "And what of Stevie?"

It was a sort of forgetfulness; but instantly she became aware that there
was no longer any occasion for anxiety on that score. There would never
be any occasion any more. The poor boy had been taken out and killed.
The poor boy was dead.

This shaking piece of forgetfulness stimulated Mrs Verloc's intelligence.
She began to perceive certain consequences which would have surprised Mr
Verloc. There was no need for her now to stay there, in that kitchen, in
that house, with that man--since the boy was gone for ever. No need
whatever. And on that Mrs Verloc rose as if raised by a spring. But
neither could she see what there was to keep her in the world at all.
And this inability arrested her. Mr Verloc watched her with marital
solicitude.

"You're looking more like yourself," he said uneasily. Something
peculiar in the blackness of his wife's eyes disturbed his optimism. At
that precise moment Mrs Verloc began to look upon herself as released
from all earthly ties.

She had her freedo