She was giddy but calm.
She had become a free woman with a perfection of freedom which left her nothing to desire and absolutely nothing to do, since Stevie's urgent claim on her devotion no longer existed.

Mrs Verloc, who thought in images, was not troubled now by visions, because she did not think at all.

And she did not move.

She was a woman enjoying her complete irresponsibility and endless leisure, almost in the manner of a corpse.
She did not move, she did not think.

Neither did the mortal envelope of the late Mr Verloc reposing on the sofa.