It was a benevolent intention, but Mr Verloc had the misfortune not to be in accord with his audience.
The self-confident tone grew upon Mrs Verloc's ear which let most of the words go by; for what were words to her now?
What could words do to her, for good or evil in the face of her fixed idea?
Her black glance followed that man who was asserting his impunity--the man who had taken poor Stevie from home to kill him somewhere.

Mrs Verloc could not remember exactly where, but her heart began to beat very perceptibly.
Mr Verloc, in a soft and conjugal tone, was now expressing his firm belief that there were yet a good few years of quiet life before them both.

He did not go into the question of means.

A quiet life it must be and, as it were, nestling in the shade, concealed among men whose flesh is grass; modest, like the life of violets.

The words used by Mr Verloc were: "Lie low for a bit." And far from England, of course.