He waited.
Punctual, Mrs Verloc came out, with her veil down, and all black--black as commonplace death itself, crowned with a few cheap and pale flowers.
She passed close to a little group of men who were laughing, but whose laughter could have been struck dead by a single word.

Her walk was indolent, but her back was straight, and Comrade Ossipon looked after it in terror before making a start himself.
The train was drawn up, with hardly anybody about its row of open doors.
Owing to the time of the year and to the abominable weather there were hardly any passengers.

Mrs Verloc walked slowly along the line of empty compartments till Ossipon touched her elbow from behind.
"In here." She got in, and he remained on the platform looking about.

She bent forward, and in a whisper: "What is it, Tom?
Is there any danger?
Wait a moment.

There's the guard." She saw him accost the man in uniform.