The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad

same, remained out till the night was far advanced. He never

offered to take Winnie to theatres, as such a nice gentleman ought

to have done. His evenings were occupied. His work was in a way

political, he told Winnie once. She would have, he warned her, to

be very nice to his political friends.

And with her straight, unfathomable glance she answered that she

would be so, of course.

How much more he told her as to his occupation it was impossible

for Winnie’s mother to discover. The married couple took her over

with the furniture. The mean aspect of the shop surprised her.

The change from the Belgravian square to the narrow street in Soho

affected her legs adversely. They became of an enormous size. On

the other hand, she experienced a complete relief from material

cares. Her son-in-law’s heavy good nature inspired her with a

sense of absolute safety. Her daughter’s future was obviously

assured, and even as to her son Stevie she need have no anxiety.

She had not been able to conceal from herself that he was a

terrible encumbrance, that poor Stevie. But in view of Winnie’s

fondness for her delicate brother, and of Mr Verloc’s kind and

generous disposition, she felt that the poor boy was pretty safe in

this rough world. And in her heart of hearts she was not perhaps

displeased that the Verlocs had no children. As that circumstance

seemed perfectly indifferent to Mr Verloc, and as Winnie found an

object of quasi-maternal affection in her brother, perhaps this was

just as well for poor Stevie.

For he was difficult to dispose of, that boy. He was delicate and,

in a frail way, good-looking too, except for the vacant droop of

his lower lip. Under our excellent system of compulsory education

he had learned to read and write, notwithstanding the unfavourable

aspect of the lower lip. But as errand-boy he did not turn out a

great success. He forgot his messages; he was easily diverted from

the straight path of duty by the attractions of stray cats and

dogs, which he followed down narrow alleys into unsavoury courts;

by the comedies of the streets, which he contemplated open-mouthed,

to the detriment of his employer’s interests; or by the dramas of

fallen horses, whose pathos and violence induced him sometimes to

shriek pierceingly in a crowd, which disliked to be disturbed by

sounds of distress in its quiet enjoyment of the national

spectacle. When led away by a grave and protecting policeman, it

would often become apparent that poor Stevie had forgotten his

address – at least for a time. A brusque question caused him to

stutter to the point of suffocation. When startled by anything

perplexing he used to squint horribly. However, he never had any

fits (which was encouraging); and before the natural outbursts of

impatience on the part of his father he could always, in his

childhood’s days, run for protection behind the short skirts of his

sister Winnie. On the other hand, he might have been suspected of

hiding a fund of reckless naughtiness. When he had reached the age

of fourteen a friend of his late father, an agent for a foreign

preserved milk firm, having given him an opening as office-boy, he

was discovered one foggy afternoon, in his chief’s absence, busy

letting off fireworks on the staircase. He touched off in quick

succession a set of fierce rockets, angry catherine wheels, loudly

exploding squibs – and the matter might have turned out very

serious. An awful panic spread through the whole building. Wild-

eyed, choking clerks stampeded through the passages full of smoke,

silk hats and elderly business men could be seen rolling

independently down the stairs. Stevie did not seem to derive any

personal gratification from what he had done. His motives for this

stroke of originality were difficult to discover. It was only

later on that Winnie obtained from him a misty and confused

confession. It seems that two other office-boys in the building

had worked upon his feelings by tales of injustice and oppression

till they had wrought his compassion to the pitch of that frenzy.

But his father’s friend, of course, dismissed him summarily as

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