Nowork，nopay。’
　　MrVerlocfeltaqueersensationoffaintnessinhisstoutlegs。Hesteppedbackonepace，andblewhisnoseloudly。
　　Hewas，intruth，startledandalarmed。TherustyLondonsunshinestrugglingclearoftheLondonmistshedalukewarmbrightnessintotheFirstSecretary’sprivateroom:andinthesilenceMrVerlocheardagainstawindow—panethefaintbuzzingofafly—hisfirstflyoftheyear—heraldingbetterthananynumberofswallowstheapproachofspring。Theuselessfussingofthattiny，energeticorganismaffectedunpleasantlythisbigmanthreatenedinhisindolence。
　　InthepauseMrVladimirformulatedinhismindaseriesofdisparagingremarksconcerningMrVerloc’sfaceandfigure。Thefellowwasunexpectedlyvulgar，heavy，andimpudentlyunintelligent。
　　Helookeduncommonlylikeamasterplumbercometopresenthisbill。TheFirstSecretaryoftheEmbassy，fromhisoccasionalexcursionsintothefieldofAmericanhumour，hadformedaspecialnotionofthatclassofmechanicastheembodimentoffraudulentlazinessandincompetency。
　　Thiswasthenthefamousandtrustysecretagent，sosecretthathewasneverdesignatedotherwisebutbythesymbolDinthelateBaronStott—Wartenheim’sofficial，semi—official，andconfidentialcorrespondence;thecelebratedagentDwhosewarningshadthepowertochangetheschemesandthedatesofroyal，imperial，grand—ducaljourneys，andsometimescausethemtobeputoffaltogether！Thisfellow！
　　AndMrVladimirindulgedmentallyinanenormousandderisivefitofmerriment，partlyathisownastonishment，whichhejudgednaive，butmostlyattheexpenseoftheuniversallyregrettedBaronStott—Wartenheim。HislateExcellency，whomtheaugustfavourofhisImperialmasterhadimposedasAmbassadoruponseveralreluctantMinistersofForeignAffairs，hadenjoyedinhislifetimeafameforanowlish，pessimisticgullibility。HisExcellencyhadthesocialrevolutiononthebrain。Heimaginedhimselftobeadiplomatistsetapartbyaspecialdispensationtowatchtheendofdiplomacy，andprettynearlytheendoftheworld，inahorrid，democraticupheaval。HispropheticanddolefuldispatcheshadbeenforyearsthejokeofForeignOffices。Hewassaidtohaveexclaimedonhisdeath—bed（visitedbyhisImperialfriendandmaster）:`UnhappyEurope！Thoushaltperishbythemoralinsanityofthychildren！’Hewasfatedtobethevictimofthefirsthumbuggingrascalthatcamealong，thoughtMrVladimir，smilingvaguelyatMrVerloc。
　　`YououghttoveneratethememoryofBaronStott—Wartenheim，’heexclaimed，suddenly。
　　TheloweredphysiognomyofMrVerlocexpressedasombreandwearyannoyance。
　　`Permitmetoobservetoyou，’hesaid，`thatIcameherebecauseI
　　wassummonedbyaperemptoryletter。Ihavebeenhereonlytwicebeforeinthelastelevenyears，andcertainlyneverateleveninthemorning。
　　Itisn’tverywisetocallmeuplikethis。Thereisjustachanceofbeingseen。Andthatwouldbenojokeforme。’
　　MrVladimirshruggedhisshoulders。
　　`Itwoulddestroymyusefulness，’continuedtheotherhotly。
　　`That’syouraffair，’murmuredMrVladimir，withsoftbrutality。`Whenyouceasetobeusefulyoushallceasetobeemployed。Yes。Rightoff。
　　Cutshort。Youshall——’MrVladimir，frowning，paused，atalossforasufficientlyidiomaticexpression，andinstantlybrightenedup，withagrinofbeautifullywhiteteeth。`Youshallbechucked，’hebroughtout，ferociously。
　　OncemoreMrVerlochadtoreactwithalltheforceofhiswillagainstthatsensationoffaintnessrunningdownone’slegswhichonceuponatimehadinspiredsomepoordevilwiththefelicitousexpression:`Myheartwentdownintomyboots。’MrVerloc，awareofthesensation，raisedhisheadbravely。
　　MrVladimirborethelookofheavyinquirywithperfectserenity。
　　`WhatwewantistoadministeratonictotheConferenceinMilan，hesaid，airily。`Itsdeliberationsuponinternationalactionforthesuppressionofpoliticalcrimedon’tseemtogetanywhere。Englandlags。Thiscountryisabsurdwithitssentimentalregardforindividualliberty。It’sintolerabletothinkthatallyourfriendshavegotonlytocomeoverto——’
　　`InthatwayIhavethemallundermyeye，’MrVerlocinterrupted，huskily。
　　`Itwouldbemuchmoretothepointtohavethemallunderlockandkey。Englandmustbebroughtintoline。Theimbecilebourgeoisieofthiscountrymakethemselvestheaccomplicesoftheverypeoplewhoseaimistodrivethemoutoftheirhousestostarveinditches。Andtheyhavethepoliticalpowerstill，iftheyonlyhadthesensetouseitfortheirpreservation。
　　Isupposeyouagreethatthemiddleclassesarestupid？’
　　MrVerlocagreedhoarsely。`Theyare。’
　　`Theyhavenoimagination。Theyareblindedbyanidioticvanity。Whattheywantjustnowisajollygoodscare。Thisisthepsychologicalmomenttosetyourfriendstowork。Ihavehadyoucalledheretodeveloptoyoumyidea。’
　　AndMrVladimirdevelopedhisideafromonhigh，withscornandcondescension，displayingatthesametimeanamountofignoranceastotherealaims，thoughts，andmethodsoftherevolutionaryworldwhichfilledthesilentMrVerlocwithinwardconsternation。Heconfoundedcauseswitheffectsmorethanwasexcusable;themostdistinguishedpropagandistswithimpulsivebombthrowers;assumedorganizationwhereinthenatureofthingsitcouldnotexist;spokeofthesocialrevolutionarypartyonemomentasofaperfectlydisciplinedarmy，wherethewordofchiefswassupreme，andatanotherasifithadbeentheloosestassociationofdesperatebrigandsthatevercampedinamountaingorge。OnceMrVerlochadopenedhismouthforaprotest，buttheraisingofashapely，largewhitehandarrestedhim。Verysoonhebecametooappalledtoeventrytoprotest。Helistenedinastillnessofdreadwhichresembledtheimmobilityofprofoundattention。
　　`Aseriesofoutrages，’MrVladimircontinued，calmly，`executedhereinthiscountry;notonlyplannedhere—thatwouldnotdo—theywouldnotmind。YourfriendscouldsethalftheContinentonfirewithoutinfluencingthepublicopinionhereinfavourofauniversalrepressivelegislation。Theywillnotlookoutsidetheirbackyardhere。’
　　MrVerlocclearedhisthroat，buthisheartfailedhim，andhesaidnothing。
　　`Theseoutragesneednotbeespeciallysanguinary，’MrVladimirwenton，asifdeliveringascientificlecture，`buttheymustsufficientlystartling—effective。Letthembedirectedagainstbuildings，forinstance。
　　Whatisthefetishofthehourthatallthebourgeoisierecognize—eh，MrVerloc？’
　　MrVerlocopenedhishandsandshruggedhisshouldersslightly。
　　`Youaretoolazytothink，’wasMrVladimir’scommentuponthatgesture。
　　`PayattentiontowhatIsay。Thefetishoftodayisneitherroyaltynorreligion。Thereforethepalaceandthechurchshouldbeleftalone。YouunderstandwhatImean，MrVerloc？’
　　ThedismayandthescornofMrVerlocfoundventinanattemptatlevity。
　　`Perfectly。ButwhatoftheEmbassies？AseriesofattacksonthevariousEmbassies，’hebegan;buthecouldnotwithstandthecold，watchfulstareoftheFirstSecretary。
　　`Youcanbefacetious，Isee，’thelatterobserved，carelessly。`That’sallright。Itmayenlivenyouroratoryatsocialisticcongresses。Butthisroomisnoplaceforit。ItwouldbeinfinitelysaferforyoutofollowcarefullywhatIamsaying。Asyouarebeingcalledupontofurnishfactsinsteadofcock—and—bullstories，youhadbettertrytomakeyourprofitoffwhatIamtakingthetroubletoexplaintoyou。Thesacrosanctfetishoftodayisscience。Whydon’tyougetsomeofyourfriendstogoforthatwooden—facedpanjandrum—eh？IsitnotpartoftheseinstitutionswhichmustbesweptawaybeforetheF。P。comesalong？’
　　MrVerlocsaidnothing。Hewasafraidtoopenhislipslestagroanshouldescapehim。
　　`Thisiswhatyoushouldtryfor。Anattemptuponacrownedheadoronapresidentissensationalenoughinaway，butnotsomuchasitusedtobe。Ithasenteredintothegeneralconceptionoftheexistenceofallchiefsofstate。It’salmostconventional—especiallysincesomanypresidentshavebeenassassinated。Nowletustakeanoutrageupon—say，achurch。
　　Horribleenoughatfirstsight，nodoubt，andyetnotsoeffectiveasapersonofanordinarymindmightthink。Nomatterhowrevolutionaryandanarchistininception，therewouldbefoolsenoughtogivesuchanoutragethecharacterofareligiousmanifestation。Andthatwoulddetractfromtheespecialalarmingsignificancewewishtogivetotheact。Amurderousattemptonarestaurantoratheatrewouldsufferinthesamewayfromthesuggestionofnon—politicalpassion;theexasperationofahungryman，anactofsocialrevenge。Allthisisusedup;itisnolongerinstructiveasanobjectlessoninrevolutionaryanarchism。Everynewspaperhasready—madephrasestoexplainsuchmanifestationsaway。Iamabouttogiveyouthephilosophyofbombthrowingfrommypointofview;fromthepointofviewyoupretendtohavebeenservingforthelastelevenyears。Iwilltrynottotalkaboveyourhead。Thesensibilitiesoftheclassyouareattackingaresoonblunted。Propertyseemstothemanindestructiblething。Youcan’tcountupontheiremotionseitherofpityorfearforverylong。Abomboutragetohaveanyinfluenceonpublicopinionnowmustgobeyondtheintentionofvengeanceorterrorism。Itmustbepurelydestructive。Itmustbethat，andonlythat，beyondthefaintestsuspicionofanyotherobject。Youanarchistsshouldmakeitclearthatyouareperfectlydeterminedtomakeacleansweepofthewholesocialcreation。Buthowtogetthatappallinglyabsurdnotionintotheheadsofthemiddleclassessothatthereshouldbenomistake？That’sthequestion。Bydirectingyourblowsatsomethingoutsidetheordinarypassionsofhumanityistheanswer。Ofcourse，thereisart。AbombintheNationalGallerywouldmakesomenoise。
　　Butitwouldnotbeseriousenough。Arthasneverbeentheirfetish。It’slikebreakingafewbackwindowsinaman’shouse;whereas，ifyouwanttomakehimreallysitup，youmusttryatleasttoraisetheroof。Therewouldbesomescreamingofcourse，butfromwhom？Artists—artcriticsandsuchlike—peopleofnoaccount。Nobodymindswhattheysay。Butthereislearning—science。Anyimbecilethathasgotanincomebelievesinthat。Hedoesnotknowwhy，buthebelievesitmatterssomehow。Itisthesacrosanctfetish。Allthedamnedprofessorsareradicalsatheart。Letthemknowthattheirgreatpanjandrumhasgottogo，too，tomakeroomfortheFutureoftheProletariat。AhowlfromalltheseintellectualidiotsisboundtohelpforwardthelaboursoftheMilanConference。Theywillbewritingtothepapers。Theirindignationwouldbeabovesuspicion，nomaterialinterestsbeingopenlyatstake，anditwillalarmeveryselfishnessoftheclasswhichshouldbeimpressed。Theybelievethatinsomemysteriouswayscienceisatthesourceoftheirmaterialprosperity。Theydo。Andtheabsurdferocityofsuchademonstrationwillaffectthemmoreprofoundlythanthemanglingofawholestreet—ortheatre—fulloftheirownkind。
　　Tothatlasttheycanalwayssay:"Oh！it’smereclasshate。"Butwhatisonetosaytoanactofdestructiveferocitysoabsurdastobeincomprehensible，inexplicable，almostunthinkable;infact，mad？Madnessaloneistrulyterrifying，inasmuchasyoucannotplacateiteitherbythreats，persuasion，orbribes。Moreover，Iamacivilizedman。Iwouldneverdreamofdirectingyoutoorganizeamerebutchery，evenifIexpectedthebestresultsfromit。ButIwouldn’texpectfromabutcherytheresultIwant。Murderisalwayswithus。Itisalmostaninstitution。Thedemonstrationmustbeagainstlearning—science。Butnoteverysciencewilldo。Theattackmusthavealltheshockingsenselessnessofgratuitousblasphemy。Sincebombsareyourmeansofexpression，itwouldbereallytellingifonecouldthrowabombintopuremathematics。Butthatisimpossible。Ihavebeentryingtoeducateyou;Ihaveexpoundedtoyouthehigherphilosophyofyourusefulness，andsuggestedtoyousomeserviceablearguments。Thepracticalapplicationofmyteachinginterestsyoumostly。ButfromthemomentIhaveundertakentointerviewyouIhavealsogivensomeattentiontothepracticalaspectofthequestion。Whatdoyouthinkofhavingagoatastronomy？’
　　ForsometimealreadyMrVerloc’simmobilitybythesideofthearmchairresembledastateofcollapsedcoma—asortofpassiveinsensibilityinterruptedbyslightconvulsivestarts，suchasmaybeobservedinthedomesticdoghavinganightmareonthehearthrug。Anditwasinanuneasy，doglikegrowlthatherepeatedtheword:
　　`Astronomy。’
　　HehadnotrecoveredthoroughlyasyetfromthestateofbewildermentbroughtaboutbytheefforttofollowMrVladimir’srapid，incisiveutterance。
　　Ithadovercomehispowerofassimilation。Ithadmadehimangry。Thisangerwascomplicatedbyincredulity。Andsuddenlyitdawneduponhimthatallthiswasanelaboratejoke。MrVladimirexhibitedhiswhiteteethinasmile，withdimplesonhisround，fullfaceposedwithacomplacentinclinationabovethebristlingbowofhisnecktie。Thefavouriteofintelligentsocietywomenhadassumedhisdrawing—roomattitudeaccompanyingthedeliveryofdelicatewitticisms。Sittingwellforward，hiswhitehandupraised，heseemedtoholddelicatelybetweenhisthumbandforefingerthesubtletyofhissuggestion。
　　`Therecouldbenothingbetter。Suchanoutragecombinesthegreatestpossibleregardforhumanitywiththemostalarmingdisplayofferociousimbecility。Idefytheingenuityofjournaliststopersuadetheirpublicthatanygivenmemberoftheproletariatcanhaveapersonalgrievanceagainstastronomy。Starvationitselfcouldhardlybedraggedinthere—
　　eh？Andthereareotheradvantages。ThewholecivilizedworldhasheardofGreenwich。TheverybootblacksinthebasementofCharingCrossStationknowsomethingofit。See？’
　　ThefeaturesofMrVladimir，sowellknowninthebestsocietybytheirhumorousurbanity，beamedwithcynicalself—satisfaction，whichwouldhaveastonishedtheintelligentwomenhiswitentertainedsoexquisitely。`Yes，’
　　hecontinued，withacontemptuoussmile，`theblowingupofthefirstmeridianisboundtoraiseahowlofexecration。’
　　`Adifficultbusiness，’MrVerlocmumbled，feelingthatthiswastheonlysafethingtosay。
　　`Whatisthematter？Haven’tyouthewholegangunderyourhand？Theverypickofthebasket？ThatoldterroristYundtishere。IseehimwalkingaboutPiccadillyinhisgreenhavelockalmosteveryday。AndMichaelis，theticket—of—leaveapostle—youdon’tmeantosayyoudon’tknowwhereheis？Becauseifyoudon’t，Icantellyou，’MrVladimirwentonmenacingly。
　　`Ifyouimaginethatyouaretheonlyoneinthesecretfundlist，youaremistaken。’
　　ThisperfectlygratuitoussuggestioncausedMrVerloctoshufflehisfeetslightly。
　　`AndthewholeLausannelot—eh？Haven’ttheybeenflockingoverhereatthefirsthintoftheMilanConference？Thisisanabsurdcountry。’
　　`Itwillcostmoney，’MrVerlocsaid，byasortofinstinct。
　　`Thatcockwon’tfight，’MrVladimirretorted，withanamazinglygenuineEnglishaccent。`You’llgetyourscreweverymonth，andnomoretillsomethinghappens。Andifnothinghappensverysoonyouwon’tgeteventhat。What’syourostensibleoccupation？Whatareyousupposedtoliveby？’
　　`Ikeepashop，’answeredMrVerloc。`Ashop！Whatsortofshop？’`Stationery，newspapers。Mywife——’
　　`Yourwhat？’interruptedMrVladimirinhisgutturalCentralAsiantones。
　　`Mywife。’MrVerlocraisedhishuskyvoiceslightly。`Iammarried。’
　　`Thatbedamnedforayarn，’exclaimedtheotherinunfeignedastonishment。
　　`Married！Andyouaprofessedanarchist，too！Whatisthisconfoundednonsense？
　　ButIsupposeit’smerelyamannerofspeaking。Anarchistsdon’tmarry。
　　It’swellknown。Theycan’t。Itwouldbeapostasy。
　　`Mywifeisn’tone，’MrVerlocmumbled，sulkily。`Moreover，it’snoconcernofyours。’
　　`Oh，yes，itis，’snappedMrVladimir。`Iambeginningtobeconvincedthatyouarenotatallthemanfortheworkyou’vebeenemployedon。Why，youmusthavediscreditedyourselfcompletelyinyourownworldbyyourmarriage。Couldn’tyouhavemanagedwithout？Thisisyourvirtuousattachment—eh？Whatwithonesortofattachmentandanotheryouaredoingawaywithyourusefulness。’
　　MrVerloc，puffingouthischeeks，lettheairescapeviolently，andthatwasall。Hehadarmedhimselfwithpatience。Itwasnottobetriedmuchlonger。TheFirstSecretarybecamesuddenlyverycurt，detached，final。
　　`Youmaygonow，’hesaid。`Adynamiteoutragemustbeprovoked。Igiveyouamonth。ThesittingsoftheConferencearesuspended。Beforeitreassemblesagainsomethingmusthavehappenedhere，oryourconnectionwithusceases。’
　　Hechangedthenoteoncemorewithanunprincipledversatility。
　　`Thinkovermyphilosophy，Mr—Mr—Verloc，’hesaid，withasortofchaffingcondescension，wavinghishandtowardsthedoor。`Goforthefirstmeridian。Youdon’tknowthemiddleclassesaswellasIdo。Theirsensibilitiesarejaded。Thefirstmeridian。Nothingbetter，andnothingeasier，Ishouldthink。’
　　Hehadgotup，andwithhisthinsensitivelipstwitchinghumorously，watchedintheglassoverthemantelpieceMrVerlocbackingoutoftheroomheavily，hatandstickinhand。Thedoorclosed。
　　Thefootmanintrousers，appearingsuddenlyinthecorridor，ledMrVerlocanotherwayoutandthroughasmalldoorinthecornerofthecourtyard。
　　Theporterstandingatthegateignoredhisexitcompletely;andMrVerlocretracedthepathofhismorning’spilgrimageasifinadream—anangrydream。Thisdetachmentfromthematerialworldwassocompletethat，thoughthemortalenvelopeofMrVerlochadnothastenedundulyalongthestreets，thatpartofhimtowhichitwouldbeunwarrantablyrudetorefuseimmortality，founditselfattheshopdoorallatonce，asbornefromwesttoeastonthewingsofagreatwind。Hewalkedstraightbehindthecounter，andsatdownonawoodenchairthatstoodthere。Nooneappearedtodisturbhissolitude。Stevie，putintoagreenbaizeapron，wasnowsweepinganddustingupstairs，intentandconscientious，asthoughhewereplayingatit;andMrsVerloc，warnedinthekitchenbytheclatterofthecrackedbell，hadmerelycometotheglazeddooroftheparlour，andputtingthecurtainasidealittle，hadpeeredintothedimshop。Seeingherhusbandsittingthereshadowyandbulky，withhishattiltedfarbackonhishead，shehadatoncereturnedtoherstove。
　　AnhourormorelatershetookthegreenbaizeapronoffherbrotherStevie，andinstructedhimtowashhishandsandfaceintheperemptorytoneshehadusedinthatconnectionforfifteenyearsorso—eversinceshehad，infact，ceasedtoattendtotheboy’shandsandfaceherself。
　　Shesparedpresentlyaglanceawayfromherdishing—upfortheinspectionofthatfaceandthosehandswhichStevie，approachingthekitchentable，offeredforherapprovalwithanairofself—assurancehidingaperpetualresidueofanxiety。Formerlytheangerofthefatherwasthesupremelyeffectivesanctionoftheserites，butMrVerloc’splacidityindomesticlifewouldhavemadeallmentionofangerincredible—eventopoorStevie’snervousness。ThetheorywasthatMrVerlocwouldhavebeeninexpressiblypainedandshockedbyanydeficiencyofcleanlinessatmealtimes。WinnieafterthedeathofherfatherfoundconsiderableconsolationinthefeelingthatsheneednolongertrembleforpoorStevie。Shecouldnotbeartoseetheboyhurt。Itmaddenedher。Asalittlegirlshehadoftenfacedwithblazingeyestheirasciblelicensedvictuallerindefenceofherbrother。
　　NothingnowinMrsVerloc’sappearancecouldleadonetosupposethatshewascapableofapassionatedemonstration。
　　Shefinishedherdishing—up。Thetablewaslaidintheparlour。Goingtothefootofthestairsshescreamedout`Mother！’Thenopeningtheglazeddoorleadingtotheshop，`Adolf！’MrVerlochadnotchangedhisposition;
　　hehadnotapparentlystirredalimbforanhourandahalf。Hegotupheavily，andcametohisdinnerinhisovercoatandwithhishaton，withoututteringaword。Hissilenceinitselfhadnothingstartlinglyunusualinthishousehold，hiddenintheshadesofthesordidstreetseldomtouchedbythesun，behindthedimshopwithitswaresofdisreputablerubbish。
　　OnlythatdayMrVerloc’staciturnitywassoobviouslythoughtfulthatthetwowomenwereimpressedbyit。Theysatsilentthemselves，keepingawatchfuleyeonpoorStevie，lestheshouldbreakoutintooneofhisfitsofloquacity。HefacedMrVerlocacrossthetable，andremainedverygoodandquiet，staringvacantly。Theendeavourtokeephimfrommakinghimselfobjectionableinanywaytothemasterofthehouseputnoinconsiderableanxietyintothesetwowomen’slives。`Theboy，’astheyalludedtohimsoftlybetweenthemselves，hadbeenasourceofthatsortofanxietyalmostfromtheverydayofhisbirth。Thelatelicensedvictualler’shumiliationathavingsuchaverypeculiarboyforasonmanifesteditselfbyapropensitytobrutaltreatment;forhewasapersonoffinesensibilities，andhissufferingsasamanandafatherwereperfectlygenuine。AfterwardsSteviehadtobekeptfrommakinghimselfanuisancetothesinglegentlemenlodgers，whoarethemselvesaqueerlot，andareeasilyaggrieved。Andtherewasalwaystheanxietyofhismereexistencetoface。Visionsofaworkhouseinfirmaryforherchildhadhauntedtheoldwomaninthebasementbreakfast—roomofthedecayedBelgravianhouse。`Ifyouhadnetfoundsuchagoodhusband，mydear，’sheusedtosaytoherdaughter，`Idon’tknowwhatwouldhavebecomeofthatpoorboy。
　　MrVerlocextendedasmuchrecognitiontoStevieasamannotparticularlyfondofanimalsmaygivetohiswife’sbelovedcat;andthisrecognition，benevolentandperfunctory，wasessentiallyofthesamequality。Bothwomenadmittedtothemselvesthatnotmuchmorecouldbereasonablyexpected。
　　ItwasenoughtoearnforMrVerloctheoldwoman’sreverentialgratitude。
　　Intheearlydays，madescepticalbythetrialsoffriendlesslife，sheusedsometimestoaskanxiously:`Youdon’tthink，mydear，thatMrVerlocisgettingtiredofseeingStevieabout？’TothisWinnierepliedhabituallybyaslighttossofherhead。Once，however，sheretorted，witharathergrimpertness:`He’llhavetogettiredofmefirst。’Alongsilenceensued。
　　Themother，withherfeetproppeduponastool，seemedtobetryingtogettothebottomofthatanswer，whosefeminineprofundityhadstruckherallofaheap。ShehadneverreallyunderstoodwhyWinniehadmarriedMrVerloc。Itwasverysensibleofher，andevidentlyhadturnedoutforthebest，butthegirlmighthavenaturallyhopedtofindsomebodyofamoresuitableage。Therehadbeenasteadyyoungfellow，onlysonofabutcherinthenextstreet，helpinghisfatherinbusiness，withwhomWinniehadbeenwalkingoutwithobviousgusto。Hewasdependentonhisfather，itistrue;butthebusinesswasgood，andhisprospectsexcellent。Hetookhergirltothetheatreonseveralevenings。Thenjustasshebegantodreadtohearoftheirengagement（forwhatcouldshehavedonewiththatbighousealone，withStevieonherhands），thatromancecametoanabruptend，andWinniewentaboutlookingverydull。ButMrVerloc，turningupprovidentiallytooccupythefirst—floorfrontbedroom，therehadbeennomorequestionoftheyoungbutcher。Itwasclearlyprovidential。
　　CONRAD:TheSecretAgent，Chapter3CHAPTER3
　　`……Allidealizationmakeslifepoorer。Tobeautifyitistotakeawayitscharacterofcomplexity—itistodestroyit。Leavethattothemoralists，myboy。Historyismadebymen，buttheydonotmakeitintheirheads。Theideasthatarebornintheirconsciousnessplayaninsignificantpartinthemarchofevents。Historyisdominatedanddeterminedbythetoolandtheproduction—bytheforceofeconomicconditions。Capitalismhasmadesocialism，andthelawsmadebythecapitalistfortheprotectionofpropertyareresponsibleforanarchism。Noonecantellwhatformthesocialorganizationmaytakeinthefuture。Thenwhyindulgeinpropheticphantasies？Atbesttheycanonlyinterpretthemindoftheprophet，andcanhavenoobjectivevalue。Leavethatpastimetothemoralists，myboy。’
　　Michaelis，theticket—of—leaveapostle，wasspeakinginanevenvoice，avoicethatwheezedasifdeadenedandoppressedbythelayeroffatonhischest。Hehadcomeoutofahighlyhygienicprisonroundlikeatub，withanenormousstomachanddistendedcheeksofapale，semi—transparentcomplexion，asthoughforfifteenyearstheservantsofanoutragedsocietyhadmadeapointofstuffinghimwithfatteningfoodsinadampandlightlesscellar。Andeversincehehadnevermanagedtogethisweightdownasmuchasanounce。
　　ItwassaidthatforthreeseasonsrunningaverywealthyoldladyhadsenthimforacuretoMarienbad—wherehewasabouttosharethepubliccuriosityoncewithacrownedhead—butthepoliceonthatoccasionorderedhimtoleavewithintwelvehours。Hismartyrdomwascontinuedbyforbiddinghimallaccesstothehealingwaters。Buthewasresignednowasmuchasanounce。
　　ItwassaidthatforthreeseasonsrunningaverywealthyoldladyhadsenthimforacuretoMarienbad—wherehewasabouttosharethepubliccuriosityoncewithacrownedhead—butthepoliceonthatoccasionorderedhimtoleavewithintwelvemonths。Hismartyrdomwascontinuedbyforbiddinghimallaccesstothehealingwaters。Buthewasresignednow。
　　Withhiselbowpresentingnoappearanceofajoint，butmorelikeabendinadummy’slimb，thrownoverthebackofachair，heleanedforwardslightlyoverhisshortandenormousthighstospitintothegrate。
　　`Yes！Ihadthetimetothinkthingsoutalittle，’headdedwithoutemphasis。`Societyhasgivenmeplentyoftimeformeditation。’
　　Ontheothersideofthefireplace，inthehorse—hairarmchairwhereMrsVerloc’smotherwasgenerallyprivilegedtosit，KarlYundtgiggledgrimly，withafaintblackgrimaceofatoothlessmouth。Theterrorist，ashecalledhimself，wasoldandbald，withanarrow，snow—whitewispofagoateehanginglimplyfromhischin。Anextraordinaryexpressionofunderhandmalevolencesurvivedinhisextinguishedeyes。Whenherosepainfullythethrustingforwardofaskinnygropinghanddeformedbygoutyswellingssuggestedtheeffortofamoribundmurderersummoningallhisremainingstrengthforalaststab。Heleanedonathickstick，whichtrembledunderhisotherhand。`Ihavealwaysdreamed，’hemouthed，fiercely，`ofabandofmenabsoluteintheirresolvetodiscardallscruplesinthechoiceofmeans，strongenoughtogivethemselvesfranklythenameofdestroyers，andfreefromthetaintofthatresignedpessimismwhichrotstheworld。
　　Nopityforanythingonearth，includingthemselves，anddeathenlistedforgoodandallintheserviceofhumanity—that’swhatIwouldhavelikedtosee。
　　Hislittlebaldheadquivered，impartingacomicalvibrationtothewispofwhitegoatee。Hisenunciationwouldhavebeenalmosttotallyunintelligibletoastranger。Hisworn—outpassion，resemblinginitsimpotentfiercenesstheexcitementofasenilesensualist，wasbadlyservedbyadriedthroatandtoothlessgumswhichseemedtocatchthetipofhistongue。MrVerloc，establishedinthecornerofthesofaattheotherendoftheroom，emittedtwoheartygruntsofassent。
　　Theoldterroristturnedslowlyhisheadonhisskinnyneckfromsidetoside。
　　`AndIcouldnevergetasmanyasthreesuchmentogether。Somuchforyourrottenpessimism，’hesnarledatMichaelis，whouncrossedhisthicklegssimilartobolsters，andslidhisfeetabruptlyunderhischairinsignofexasperation。
　　Heapessimist！Preposterous！Hecriedoutthatthechargewasoutrageous。
　　Hewassofarfrompessimismthathesawalreadytheendofallprivatepropertycomingalonglogically，unavoidably，bythemeredevelopmentofitsinherentviciousness。Thepossessorsofpropertyhadnotonlytofacetheawakenedproletariat，buttheyhadalsotofightamongstthemselves。
　　Yes。Struggle，warfare，wastheconditionofprivateownership。Itwasfatal。Ah！hedidnotdependuponemotionalexcitementtokeepuphisbelief，nodeclamations，noanger，novisionsofblood—redflagswaving，ormetaphoricalluridsunsofvengeancerisingabovethehorizonofadoomedsociety。Nothe！Coldreason，heboasted，wasthebasisofhisoptimism。Yesoptimism——
　　Hislaboriouswheezingstopped，then，afteragasportwo，headded:
　　`Don’tyouthinkthat，ifIhadnotbeentheoptimistIam，Icouldnothavefoundinfifteenyearssomemeanstocutmythroat？And，inthelastinstance，therewerealwaysthewallsofmycelltodashmyheadagainst。’
　　Theshortnessofbreathtookallfire，allanimationoutofhisvoice;