The singularity of the event, the force and importance of the personal feelings aroused in the course of this confession, drove Stevie's fate clean out of Mr Verloc's mind.
The boy's stuttering existence of fears and indignations, together with the violence of his end, had passed out of Mr Verloc's mental sight for a time.

For that reason, when he looked up he was startled by the inappropriate character of his wife's stare.

It was not a wild stare, and it was not inattentive, but its attention was peculiar and not satisfactory, inasmuch that it seemed concentrated upon some point beyond Mr Verloc's person.

The impression was so strong that Mr Verloc glanced over his shoulder.

There was nothing behind him: there was just the whitewashed wall.