A blank wall--perfectly blank.

A blankness to run at and dash your head against.

Mrs Verloc remained immovably seated.

She kept still as the population of half the globe would keep still in astonishment and despair, were the sun suddenly put out in the summer sky by the perfidy of a trusted providence.
"The Embassy," Mr Verloc began again, after a preliminary grimace which bared his teeth wolfishly.

"I wish I could get loose in there with a cudgel for half-an-hour.