There's no other door to the house." For a moment she sat impassive, then left her seat to go and peep through the glazed door.

Suddenly she opened it, and disappeared into the parlour.
Mr Verloc had done no more than put on his overcoat.

But why he should remain afterwards leaning over the table propped up on his two arms as though he were feeling giddy or sick, she could not understand.

"Adolf," she called out half aloud; and when he had raised himself: "Do you know that man ?" she asked rapidly.
"I've heard of him," whispered uneasily Mr Verloc, darting a wild glance at the door.
Mrs Verloc's fine, incurious eyes lighted up with a flash of abhorrence.
"One of Karl Yundt's friends--beastly old man." "No! No!" protested Mr Verloc, busy fishing for his hat.

But when he got it from under the sofa he held it as if he did not know the use of a hat.
"Well--he's waiting for you," said Mrs Verloc at last.