Quotation from: The Secret Agent

Written by: Joseph Conrad


Mr Verloc, getting into bed on his own side, remained prone and mute
behind Mrs Verloc's back. His thick arms rested abandoned on the outside
of the counterpane like dropped weapons, like discarded tools. At that
moment he was within a hair's breadth of making a clean breast of it all
to his wife. The moment seemed propitious. Looking out of the corners
of his eyes, he saw her ample shoulders draped in white, the back of her
head, with the hair done for the night in three plaits tied up with black
tapes at the ends. And he forbore. Mr Verloc loved his wife as a wife
should be loved--that is, maritally, with the regard one has for one's
chief possession. This head arranged for the night, those ample
shoulders, had an aspect of familiar sacredness--the sacredness of
domestic peace. She moved not, massive and shapeless like a recumbent
statue in the rough; he remembered her wide-open eyes looking into the
empty room. She was mysterious, with the mysteriousness of living
beings. The far-famed secret agent [delta] of the late Baron
Stott-Wartenheim's alarmist despatches was not the man to break into such
mysteries. He was easily intimidated. And he was also indolent, with
the indolence which is so often the secret of good nature. He forbore
touching that mystery out of love, timidity, and indolence. There would
be always time enough. For several minutes he bore his sufferings
silently in the drowsy silence of the room. And then he disturbed it by
a resolute declaration.

PREVIOUS GROUP HOME SITE HOME NEXT
Old Dominion University CS Dept
Designed by Joan A. Smith for the CRATE project
Created: 2007-2-22T12:35:29Z
Part of the CratePreservation Project
Change Tag: ~~ 0 ~~
Part of a series of experiments in web preservation under the direction of Michael L. Nelson, Ph.D.