Comrade Ossipon avoided easily the end of the counter, and approached calmly the glazed door of the parlour.

The curtain over the panes being drawn back a little he, by a very natural impulse, looked in, just as he made ready to turn the handle.

He looked in without a thought, without intention, without curiosity of any sort.

He looked in because he could not help looking in.

He looked in, and discovered Mr Verloc reposing quietly on the sofa.
A yell coming from the innermost depths of his chest died out unheard and transformed into a sort of greasy, sickly taste on his lips.