第17章

ThiswasthemoresubtlesanctionofMrsVerloc’smother’sheroismandunscrupulousness。Heractofabandonmentwasreallyanarrangementforsettlinghersonpermanentlyinlife。Otherpeoplemadematerialsacrificesforsuchanobject，sheinthatway。Itwastheonlyway。Moreover，shewouldbeabletoseehowitworked。Illorwellshewouldavoidthehorribleincertitudeonthedeath—bed。Butitwashard，hard，cruellyhard。

Thecabrattled，jingled，jolted;infact，thelastwasquiteextraordinary。

Byitsdisproportionateviolenceandmagnitudeitobliteratedeverysensationofonwardmovement;andtheeffectwasofbeingshakeninastationaryapparatuslikeamedievaldeviceforthepunishmentofcrime，orsomeverynew—fangledinventionforthecureofasluggishliver。Itwasextremelydistressing;andtheraisingofMrsVerloc’smother’svoicesoundedlikeawailofpain。

`Iknow，mydear，you’llcometoseemeasoftenasyoucansparethetime。Won’tyou？’

`Ofcourse，’answeredWinnie，shortly，staringstraightbeforeher。

Andthecabjoltedinfrontofasteamy，greasyshopinablazeofgasandinthesmelloffriedfish。

Theoldwomanraisedawailagain。

`And，mydear，ImustseethatpoorboyeverySunday。Hewon’tmindspendingthedaywithhisoldmother——’

Winniescreamedoutstolidly:

`Mind！Ishouldthinknot。Thatpoorboywillmissyousomethingcruel。

Iwishyouhadthoughtalittleofthat，mother。’

Notthinkofit！Theheroicwomanswallowedaplayfulandinconvenientobjectlikeabilliardball，whichhadtriedtojumpoutofherthroat。

Winniesatmuteforawhile，poutingatthefrontofthecab，thensnappedout，whichwasanunusualtonewithher:

`IexpectI’llhaveajobwithhimatfirst，he’llbethatrestless——’

`Whateveryoudo，don’tlethimworryyourhusband，mydear。’

Thustheydiscussedonfamiliarlinesthebearingsofanewsituation。

Andthecabjolted。MrsVerloc’smotherexpressedsomemisgivings。CouldSteviebetrustedtocomeallthatwayalone？Winniemaintainedthathewasmuchless`absent—minded’now。Theyagreedastothat。Itcouldnotbedenied。Muchless—hardlyatall。Theyshoutedateachotherinthejinglewithcomparativecheerfulness。Butsuddenlythematernalanxietybrokeoutafresh。Thereweretwoomnibusestotake，andashortwalkbetween。

Itwastoodifficult！Theoldwoman’gavewaytogriefandconsternation。

Winniestaredforward。

`Don’tyouupsetyourselflikethis，mother。Youmustseehim，ofcourse。

`No，mydear。I’lltrynotto。Shemoppedherstreamingeyes。’

`Butyoucan’tsparethetimetocomewithhim，andifheshouldforgethimselfandlosehiswayandsomebodyspoketohimsharply，hisnameandaddressmaysliphismemory，andhe’llremainlostfordaysanddays——’

ThevisionofaworkhouseinfirmaryforpoorStevie—ifonlyduringinquiries—wrungherheart。Forshewasaproudwoman。Winnie’sstarehadgrownhard，intent，inventive。

`Ican’tbringhimtoyoumyselfeveryweek，’shecried。`Butdon’tyouworry，mother。I’llseetoitthathedon’tgetlostforlong。’

Theyfeltapeculiarbump;avisionofbrickpillarslingeredbeforetherattlingwindowsofthecab;asuddencessationofatrociousjoltinganduproariousjinglingdazedthetwowomen。Whathadhappened？Theysatmotionlessandscaredintheprofoundstillness，tillthedoorcameopen，andarough，strainedwhisperingwasheard:

`’Ereyouare！’

Arangeofgabledlittlehouses，eachwithonedimyellowwindow，onthegroundfloor，surroundedthedarkopenspaceofagrassplotplantedwithshrubsandrailedofffromthepatchworkoflightsandshadowsitthewideroad，resoundingwiththedullrumbleoftraffic。Beforethedoorofoneofthesetinyhouses—onewithoutalightinthelittledownstairswindow—the’cabhadcometoastandstill。MrsVerloc’smothergotoutfirst，backwards，withakeyinherhand。Winnielingeredontheflagstonepathtopaythecabman。Stevie，afterhelpingtocarryinsidealotofsmallparcels，cameoutandstoodunderthelightofagas—lampbelongingtotheCharity。Thecabmanlookedatthepiecesofsilver，which，appearingveryminuteinhisbig，grimypalm，symbolizedtheinsignificantresultswhichrewardtheambitiouscourageandtoilofamankindwhosedayisshortonthisearthofevil。

Hehadbeenpaiddecently—fourone—shillingpieces—andhecontemplatedtheminperfectstillness，asiftheyhadbeenthesurprisingtermsofamelancholyproblem。Theslowtransferofthattreasuretoaninnerpocketdemandedmuchlaboriousgropinginthedepthsofdecayedclothing。Hisformwassquatandwithoutflexibility。Stevie，slender，hisshouldersalittleup，andhishandsthrustdeepinthesidepocketsofhiswarmovercoat，stoodattheedgeofthepath，pouting。

Thecabman，pausinginhisdeliberatemovements，seemedstruckbysomemistyrecollection。

`Oh！’Ereyouare，youngfellow，’hewhispered。`You’llknowhimagain—wontyou？’

Steviewasstaringatthehorse，whosehindquartersappearedundulyelevatedbytheeffectofemancipation。Thelittlestifftailseemedtohavebeenfittedinforaheartlessjoke;andattheotherendthethin，flatneck，likeaplankcoveredwitholdhorse—hide，droopedtothegroundundertheweightofanenormousbonyhead。Theearshungatdifferentangles，negligently;andthemacabrefigureofthatmutedwellerontheearthsteamedstraightupfromribsandbackboneinthemuggystillnessoftheair。

ThecabmanstrucklightlyStevie’sbreastwiththeironhookprotrudingfromaragged，greasysleeve。

`Look’ereyoungfeller。’Owdyouliketositbehindthis’ossuptotwoo’clockinthemorningp’raps？’

Stevielookedvacantlyintothefiercelittleeyeswithred—edgedlids。

`Heain’tlame，’pursuedtheother，whisperingwithenergy。`Heain’tgotnosoreplaceson’im。’Ereheis。’Owwouldyoulike——’

Hisstrained，extinctvoiceinvestedhisutterancewithacharacterofvehementsecrecy。Stevie’svacantgazewaschangingslowlyintodread。

`Youmaywelllook！Tillthreeandfouro’clockinthemorning。Coldand’ungry。Lookingforfares。Drunks。’

Hisjovialpurplecheeksbristledwithwhitehairs;andlikeVirgil’sSilenus，who，hisfacesmearedwiththejuiceofberries，discoursedofOlympianGodstotheinnocentshepherdsofSicily，hetalkedtoStevieofdomesticmattersandtheaffairsofmenwhosesufferingsaregreatandimmortalitybynomeansassured。

`Iamanightcabby，Iam，’hewhispered，withasortofboastfulexasperation。

`I’vegottotakeoutwhattheywillbloomingwellgivemeattheyard。

I’vegotmymissusandfourkidsat’ome。

Themonstrousnatureofthatdeclarationofpaternityseemedtostriketheworlddumb。Asilencereigned，duringwhichtheflanksoftheoldhorse，thesteedofapocalypticmisery，smokedupwardsinthelightofthecharitablegas—lamp。

Thecabmangrunted，thenaddedinhismysteriouswhisper:`Thisain’taneasyworld。’

Stevie’sfacehadbeentwitchingforsometimeandatlasthisfeelingsburstoutintheirusualconcisefoam。

`Bad！Bad！’

Hisgazeremainedfixedontheribsofthehorse，self—consciousandsombre，asthoughhewereafraidtolookabouthimatthebadnessoftheworld。Andhisslenderness，hisrosylipsandpale，clearcomplexion，gavehimtheaspectofadelicateboy，notwithstandingthefluffygrowthofgoldenhaironhischeeks。Hepoutedinascaredwaylikeachild。Thecabman，shortandbroad，eyedhimwithhisfiercelittleeyesthatseemedtosmartinaclearandcorrodingliquid。

`’Ardon’osses，butdam’sight’arderonpoorchapslikeme，’hewheezedjustaudibly。

`Poor！Poor！’stammeredoutStevie，pushinghishandsdeeperintohispocketswithconvulsivesympathy。Hecouldsaynothing;forthetendernesstoallpainandallmisery，thedesiretomakethehorsehappyandthecabmanhappy，hadreachedthepointofabizarrelongingtotakethemtobedwithhim。Andthat，heknew，wasimpossible。ForSteviewasnotmad。

Itwas，asitwere，asymboliclonging;andatthesametimeitwasverydistinct，becausespringingfromexperience，themotherofwisdom。Thuswhenasachildhecoweredinadarkcornerscared，wretched，sore，andmiserablewiththeblack，blackmiseryofthesoul，hissisterWinnieusedtocomealongandcarryhimofftobedwithher，asintoaheavenofconsolingpeace。Stevie，thoughapttoforgetmerefacts，suchashisnameandaddressforinstance，hadafaithfulmemoryofsensations。Tobetakenintoabedofcompassionwasthesupremeremedy，withtheonlyonedisadvantageofbeingdifficultofapplicationonalargescale。Andlookingatthecabman，Stevieperceivedthisclearly，becausehewasreasonable。

ThecabmanwentonwithhisleisurelypreparationsasifSteviehadnotexisted。Hemadeasiftohoisthimselfonthebox，butatthelastmoment，fromsomeobscuremotive，perhapsmerelyfromdisgustwithcarriageexercise，desisted。Heapproachedinsteadthemotionlesspartnerofhislabours，andstoopingtoseizethebridle，liftedupthebig，wearyheadtotheheightofhisshoulderwithoneeffortofhisrightarm，likeafeatofstrength。

`Comeon，’hewhispered，secretly。

Limping，heledthecabaway。Therewasanairofausterityinthisdeparture，thescrunchedgravelofthedrivecryingoutundertheslowlyturningwheels，thehorse’sleanthighsmovingwithasceticdeliberationawayfromthelightintotheobscurityoftheopenspacebordereddimlybythepointedroofsandthefeeblyshiningwindowsofthelittlealmshouses。

Theplaintofthegraveltravelledslowlyallroundthedrive。Betweenthelampsofthecharitablegatewaytheslowcortegereappeared，lightedupforamoment，theshort，thickmanlimpingbusily，withthehorse’sheadheldaloftinhisfist，thelankanimalwalkinginstiffandforlorndignity，thedark，lowboxonwheelsrollingbehindcomicallywithanairofwaddling。Theyturnedtotheleft。Therewasapubdownthestreet，withinfiftyyardsofthegate。

Stevie，leftalonebesidetheprivatelamp—postoftheCharity，hishandsthrustdeepintohispockets，glaredwithvacantsulkiness。Atthebottomofhispocketshisincapable，weakhandswereclenchedhardintoapairofangryfists。Inthefaceofanythingwhichaffecteddirectlyorindirectlyhismorbiddreadofpain，Stevieendedbyturningvicious。

Amagnanimousindignationswelledhisfrailchesttobursting，andcausedhiscandideyestosquint。Supremelywiseinknowinghisownpowerlessness，Steviewasnotwiseenoughtorestrainhispassions。Thetendernessofhisuniversalcharityhadtwophasesasindissolublyjoinedandconnectedasthereverseandobversesidesofamedal。Theanguishofimmoderatecompassionwassucceededbythepainofaninnocentbutpitilessrage。

Thosetwostatesexpressingthemselvesoutwardlybythesamesignsoffutilebodilyagitation，hissisterWinniesoothedhisexcitementwithouteverfathomingitstwofoldcharacter。MrsVerlocwastednoportionofthistransientlifeinseekingforfundamentalinformation。Thisisasortofeconomyhavingalltheappearancesandsomeoftheadvantagesofprudence。Obviouslyitmaybegoodforonenottoknowtoomuch。Andsuchaviewaccordsverywellwithconstitutionalindolence。

OnthateveningonwhichitmaybesaidthatMrsVerloc’smotherhavingpartedforgoodfromherchildrenhadalsodepartedthislife，WinnieVerlocdidnotinvestigateherbrother’spsychology。Thepoorboywasexcited，ofcourse。AfteroncemoreassuringtheoldwomanonthethresholdthatshewouldknowhowtoguardagainsttheriskofStevielosinghimselfforverylongonhispilgrimagesoffilialpiety，shetookherbrother’sarmtowalkaway。Steviedidnotevenmuttertohimself，butwiththespecialsenseofsisterlydevotiondevelopedinherearliestinfancy，shefeltthattheboywasverymuchexcitedindeed。Holdingtighttohisarm，undertheappearanceofleaningonit，shethoughtofsomewordssuitabletotheoccasion。

`Now，Stevie，youmustlookwellaftermeatthecrossings，andgetfirstintothebus，likeagoodbrother。’

ThisappealtomanlyprotectionwasreceivedbySteviewithhisusualdocility。Itflatteredhim。Heraisedhisheadandthrewouthischest。

`Don’tbenervous，Winnie。Mustn’tbenervous！Busallright，’heansweredinabrusque，slurringstammerpartakingofthetimorousnessofachildandtheresolutionofaman。Headvancedfearlesslywiththewomanonhisarm，buthislowerlipdrooped。Nevertheless，onthepavementofthesqualidandwidethoroughfare，whosepovertyinalltheamenitiesoflifestoodfoolishlyexposedbyamadprofusionofgas—lights，theirresemblancetoeachotherwassopronouncedastostrikethecasualpassers—by。

Beforethedoorsofthepublic—houseatthecorner，wheretheprofusionofgas—lightreachedtheheightofpositivewickedness，afour—wheeledcabstandingbythekerbstone，withnooneonthebox，seemedcastoutintothegutteronaccountofirremediabledecay。MrsVerlocrecognizedtheconveyance。Itsaspectwassoprofoundlylamentable，withsuchaperfectionofgrotesquemiseryandweirdnessofmacabredetail，asifitweretheCabofDeathitselfthatMrsVerloc，withthatreadycompassionofawomanforahorse（whensheisnotsittingbehindhim），exclaimedvaguely！

`Poorbrute。’

Hangingbacksuddenly，Stevieinflictedanarrestingjerkuponhissister。

`Poor！Poor！’heejaculatedappreciatively。`Cabmanpoor，too。Hetoldmehimself。’

Thecontemplationoftheinfirmandlonelysteedovercamehim。Jostled，butobstinate，hewouldremainthere，tryingtoexpresstheviewnewlyopenedtohissympathiesofthehumanandequinemiseryincloseassociation。

Butitwasverydifficult。`Poorbrute，’poorpeople！’wasallhecouldrepeat。Itdidnotseemforcibleenough，andhecametoastopwithanangrysplutter。`Shame！’Steviewasnomasterofphrases，andperhapsforthatveryreasonhisthoughtslackedclearnessandprecision。Buthefeltwithgreatcompletenessandsomeprofundity。Thatlittlewordcontainedallhissenseofindignationandhorroratonesortofwretchednesshavingtofeedupontheanguishoftheother—asthepoorcabmanbeatingthepoorhorseinthename，asitwere，ofhispoorkidsathome。AndStevieknewwhatitwastobebeaten。Heknewitfromexperience。Itwasabadworld。Bad！Bad！

MrsVerloc，hisonlysister，guardian，andprotector，couldnotpretendtosuchdepthsofinsight。Moreover，shehadnotexperiencedthemagicofthecabman’seloquence。Shewasinthedarkastotheinwardnessoftheword`Shame’。Andshesaidplacidly:

`Comealong，Stevie。Youcan’thelpthat。’

ThedocileSteviewentalong;butnowhewentalongwithoutpride，shamblingly，andmutteringhalfwords，andevenwordsthatwouldhavebeenwholeiftheyhadnotbeenmadeupofhalvesthatdidnotbelongtoeachother。

Itwasasthoughhehadbeentryingtofitallthewordshecouldremembertohissentimentsinordertogetsomesortofcorrespondingidea。And，asamatteroffact，hegotitatlast。Hehungbacktoutteritatonce。

`Badworldforpoorpeople。’

Directlyhehadexpressedthatthoughthebecameawarethatitwasfamiliartohimalreadyinallitsconsequences。Thiscircumstancestrengthenedhisconvictionimmensely，butalsoaugmentedhisindignation。Somebody，hefelt，oughttobepunishedforit—punishedwithgreatseverity。Beingnosceptic，butamoralcreature，hewasinamanneratthemercyofhisrighteouspassions。

`Beastly！’headded，concisely。

ItwascleartoMrsVerlocthathewasgreatlyexcited。

`Nobodycanhelpthat，’shesaid。`Docomealong。Isthatthewayyou’retakingcareofme？’

Steviemendedhispaceobediently。Hepridedhimselfonbeingagoodbrother。Hismorality，whichwasverycomplete，demandedthatfromhim。

YethewaspainedattheinformationimpartedbyhissisterWinnie—whowasgood。Nobodycouldhelpthat！Hecamealonggloomily，butpresentlyhebrightenedup。Liketherestofmankind，perplexedbythemysteryoftheuniverse，hehadhismomentsofconsolingtrustintheorganizedpowersoftheearth。

`Police，’hesuggested，confidently。

`Thepolicearen’tforthat，’observedMrsVerloc，cursorily，hurryingonherway。

Stevie’sfacelengthenedconsiderably。Hewasthinking。Themoreintensehisthinking，theslackerwasthedroopofhislowerjaw。Anditwaswithanaspectofhopelessvacancythathegaveuphisintellectualenterprise。

`Notforthat？’hemumbled，resignedbutsurprised。`Notforthat？’

Hehadformedforhimselfanidealconceptionforthemetropolitanpoliceasasortofbenevolentinstitutionforthesuppressionofevil。Thenotionofbenevolenceespeciallywasverycloselyassociatedwithhissenseofthepowerofthemeninblue。Hehadlikedallpoliceconstablestenderly，withaguilelesstrustfulness。Andhewaspained。Hewasirritated，too，byasuspicionofduplicityinthemembers’oftheforce。ForSteviewasfrankandasopenasthedayhimself。Whatdidtheymeanbypretendingthen？Unlikehissister，whoputhertrustinfacevalues，hewishedtogotothebottomofthematter。Hecarriedonhisinquirybymeansofanangrychallenge。

`Whataretheyforthen，Winn？Whataretheyfor？Tellme。’

Winniedislikedcontroversy。ButfearingmostafitofblackdepressionconsequentonSteviemissinghismotherverymuchatfirst，shedidnotaltogetherdeclinethediscussion’。Guiltlessofallirony，sheansweredyetinaformwhichwasnotperhapsunnaturalinthewifeofMrVerloc，DelegateoftheCentralRedCommittee，personalfriendofcertainanarchists，andavotaryofsocialrevolution。

`Don’tyouknowwhatthepolicearefor，Stevie？Theyaretheresothatthemashavenothingshouldn’ttakeanythingawayfromthemwhohave。’

Sheavoidedusingtheverb`tosteal’，becauseitalwaysmadeherbrotheruncomfortable。ForSteviewasdelicatelyhonest。Certainsimpleprincipleshadbeeninstilledintohimsoanxiously（onaccountofhis`queerness’）

thatthemerenamesofcertaintransgressionsfilledhimwithhorror。Hehadbeenalwayseasilyimpressedbyspeeches。Hewasimpressedandstartlednow，andhisintelligencewasveryalert。

`What？’heaskedatonce，anxiously。`Noteveniftheywerehungry？

Mustn’tthey？’

Thetwohadpausedintheirwalk。

`Notiftheywereeverso，’saidMrsVerloc，withtheequanimityofapersonuntroubledbytheproblemofthedistributionofwealthandexploringtheperspectiveoftheroadwayforanomnibusoftherightcolour。`Certainlynot。Butwhat’stheuseoftalkingaboutallthat？Youaren’teverhungry。

Shecastaswiftglanceattheboy，likeayoungman，byherside。Shesawhimamiable，attractive，affectionateandonlyalittle，averylittlepeculiar。Andshecouldnotseehimotherwise，forhewasconnectedwithwhattherewasofthesaltofpassioninhertastelesslife—thepassionofindignation，ofcourage，ofpity，andevenofself—sacrifice。Shedidnotadd:`Andyouaren’tlikelyevertobeaslongasIlive。’Butshemightverywellhavedoneso，sinceshehadtakeneffectualstepstothatend。MrVerlocwasaverygoodhusband。Itwasherhonestimpressionthatnobodycouldhelplikingtheboy。Shecriedoutsuddenly:

`Quick，Stevie。Stopthatgreenbus。’

AndStevie，tremulousandimportantwithhissisterWinnieonhisarm，flunguptheotherhighabovehisheadattheapproachingbus，withcompletesuccess。

AnhourafterwardsMrVerlocraisedhiseyesfromanewspaperhewasreading，oratanyratelookingat，behindthecounter，andintheexpiringclatterofthedoor—bellbeheldWinnie，hiswife，enterandcrosstheshoponherwayupstairs，followedbyStevie，hisbrother—in—law。ThesightofhiswifewasagreeabletoMrVerloc。Itwashisidiosyncrasy。Thefigureofhisbrother—in—lawremainedimperceptibletohimbecauseofthemorosethoughtfulnessthatlatelyhadfallenlikeaveilbetweenMrVerlocandtheappearancesoftheworldofsenses。Helookedafterhiswifefixedly，withoutaword，asthoughshehadbeenaphantom。Hisvoiceforhomeusewashuskyandplacid，butnowitwasheardnotatall。Itwasnotheardatsupper，towhichhewascalledbyhiswifeintheusualbriefmanner:

`Adolf。’Hesatdowntoconsumeitwithoutconviction，wearinghishatpushedfarbackonhishead。Itwasnotdevotiontoanoutdoorlife，butthefrequentationofforeigncafeswhichwasresponsibleforthathabit，investingwithacharacterofunceremoniousimpermanencyMrVerloc’ssteadyfidelitytohisownfireside。Twiceattheclatterofthecrackedbellhearosewithoutaword，disappearedintotheshop，andcamebacksilently。

DuringtheseabsencesMrsVerloc，becomingacutelyawareofthevacantplaceatherrighthand，missedhermotherverymuchandstaredstonily;

whileStevie，fromthesamereason，keptonshufflinghisfeet，asthoughthefloorunderthetablewereuncomfortablyhot。WhenMrVerlocreturnedtositinhisplace，liketheveryembodimentofsilence，thecharacterofMrsVerloc’sstareunderwentasubtlechange，andStevieceasedtofidgetwithhisfeet，becauseofhisgreatandawedregardforhissister’shusband。

Hedirectedathimglancesofrespectfulcompassion。MrVerlocwassorry。

HissisterWinniehadimpresseduponhim（intheomnibus）thatMrVerlocwouldbefoundathomeinastateofsorrow，andmustnotbeworried。Hisfather’sanger，theirritabilityofgentlemenlodgers，andMrVerloc’spredispositiontoimmoderategrief，hadbeenthemainsanctionsofStevie’sself—restraint。Ofthesesentiments，alleasilyprovoked，butnotalwayseasytounderstand，thelasthadthegreatestmoralefficiency—becauseMrVerlocwasgood。Hismotherandhissisterhadestablishedthatethicalfactonanunshakablefoundation。Theyhadestablished，erected，consecrateditbehindMrVerloc’sback，forreasonsthathadnothingtodowithabstractmorality。AndMrVerlocwasnotawareofit。ItisbutbarejusticetohimtosaythathehadnonotionofappearinggoodtoStevie。

Yetsoitwas。HewaseventheonlymansoqualifiedinStevie’sknowledge，becausethegentlemenlodgershadbeentootransientandtooremotetohaveanythingverydistinctaboutthembutperhapstheirboots;andasregardsthedisciplinarymeasuresofhisfather，thedesolationofhismotherandsistershrankfromsettingupatheoryofgoodnessbeforethevictim。Itwouldhavebeentoocruel。AnditwasevenpossiblethatSteviewouldnothavebelievedthem。AsfarasMrVerlocwasconcerned，nothingcouldstandinthewayofStevie’sbelief。MrVerlocwasobviouslyyetmysteriouslygood。Andthegriefofagoodmanisaugust。

Steviegaveglancesofreverentialcompassiontohisbrother—in—law。

MrVerlocwassorry。ThebrotherofWinniehadneverbeforefelthimselfinsuchclosecommunionwiththemysteryofthatman’sgoodness。Itwasanunderstandablesorrow。AndSteviehimselfwassorry。Hewasverysorry。

Thesamesortofsorrow。Andhisattentionbeingdrawntothisunpleasantstate，Stevieshuffledhisfeet。Hisfeelingswerehabituallymanifestedbytheagitationofhislimbs。

`Keepyourfeetquiet，dear，’saidMrsVerloc，withauthorityandtenderness;

thenturningtowardsherhusbandinanindifferentvoice，themasterlyachievementofinstinctivetact:`Areyougoingouttonight？’sheasked。

ThemeresuggestionseemedrepugnanttoMrVerloc。Heshookhisheadmoodily，andthensatstillwithdowncasteyes，lookingatthepieceofcheeseonhisplateforawholeminute。Attheendofthattimehegotup，andwentout—wentrightoutintheclatteroftheshop—doorbell。

Heactedthusinconsistently，notfromanydesiretomakehimselfunpleasant，butbecauseofanunconquerablerestlessness。Itwasnoearthlygoodgoingout。HecouldnotfindanywhereinLondonwhathewanted。Buthewentout。

Heledacortegeofdismalthoughtsalongdarkstreets，throughlightedstreets，inandoutoftwoBashbars，asifinahalf—heartedattempttomakeanightofit，andfinallybackagaintohismenacedhome，wherehesatdownfatiguedbehindthecounter，andtheycrowdedurgentlyroundhim，likeapackofhungryblackhounds。Afterlockingupthehouseandputtingoutthegashetookthemupstairswithhim—adreadfulescortforamangoingtobed。Hiswifehadprecededhimsometimebefore，andwithherampleformdefinedvaguelyunderthecounterpane，herheadonthepillow，andahandunderthecheek，offeredtohisdistractiontheviewofearlydrowsinessarguingthepossessionofanequablesoul。Herbigeyesstaredwideopen，inertanddarkagainstthesnowywhitenessofthelinen。Shedidnotmove。

Shehadanequablesoul。Shefeltprofoundlythatthingsdonotstandmuchlookinginto。Shemadeherforceandherwisdomofthatinstinct。

ButthetaciturnityofMrVerlochadbeenlyingheavilyuponherforagoodmanydays。Itwas，asamatteroffact，affectinghernerves。Recumbentandmotionless，shesaidplacidly:

`You’llcatchcoldwalkingaboutinyoursockslikethis。’

Thisspeech，becomingthesolicitudeofthewifeandtheprudenceofthewoman，tookMrVerlocunawares。Hehadlefthisbootsdownstairs，buthehadforgottentoputonhisslippers，andhehadbeenturningaboutthebedroomonnoiselesspadslikeabearinacage。Atthesoundofhiswife’svoicehestoppedandstaredatherwithasomnambulistic，expressionlessgazesolongthatMrsVerlocmovedherlimbsslightlyunderthebedclothes。

Butshedidnotmoveherblackheadsunkinthewhitepillow，onehandunderhercheekandthebig，dark，unwinkingeyes。

Underherhusband’sexpressionlessstare，andrememberinghermother’semptyroomacrossthelanding，shefeltanacutepangofloneliness。Shehadneverbeenpartedfromhermotherbefore。Theyhadstoodbyeachother。

Shefeltthattheyhad，andshesaidtoherselfthatnowmotherwasgone—goneforgood。MrsVerlochadnoillusions。Stevieremained，however。

Andshesaid:

`Mother’sdonewhatshewantedtodo。There’snosenseinitthatI

cansee。I’msureshecouldn’thavethoughtyouhadenoughofher。It’sperfectlywicked，leavinguslikethat。’

MrVerlocwasnotawell—readperson;hisrangeofallusivephraseswaslimited，buttherewasapeculiaraptnessincircumstanceswhichmadehimthinkofratsleavingadoomedship。Heverynearlysaidso。Hehadgrownsuspiciousandembittered。Coulditbethattheoldwomanhadsuchanexcellentnose？Buttheunreasonablenessofsuchasuspicionwaspatent，andMrVerlocheldhistongue。Notaltogether，however。Hemuttered，heavily:

`Perhapsit’sjustaswell。’

Hebegantoundress。MrsVerlockeptverystill，perfectlystill，withhereyesfixedinadreamy，quietstare。Andherheartforthefractionofasecondseemedtostandstill，too。Thatnightshewas`notquiteherself’，asthesayingis，anditwasborneuponherwithsomeforcethatasimplesentencemayholdseveraldiversemeanings—mostlydisagreeable。Howwasitjustaswell？Andwhy？Butshedidnotallowherselftofallintotheidlenessofbarrenspeculation。Shewasratherconfirmedinherbeliefthatthingsdidnotstandbeinglookedinto。