"Upstairs ?" Mrs Verloc in the doorway turned at the voice.

An instinct of prudence born of fear, the excessive fear of being approached and touched by that man, induced her to nod at him slightly (from the height of two steps), with a stir of the lips which the conjugal optimism of Mr Verloc took for a wan and uncertain smile.
"That's right," he encouraged her gruffly.

"Rest and quiet's what you want.

Go on.

It won't be long before I am with you." Mrs Verloc, the free woman who had had really no idea where she was going to, obeyed the suggestion with rigid steadiness.
Mr Verloc watched her.