about eating people's flesh and drinking blood. What's the good of
talking like that?"

There was a note of indignant scorn in her voice. Mr Verloc was fully
responsive now.

"Ask Karl Yundt," he growled savagely.

Mrs Verloc, with great decision, pronounced Karl Yundt "a disgusting old
man." She declared openly her affection for Michaelis. Of the robust
Ossipon, in whose presence she always felt uneasy behind an attitude of
stony reserve, she said nothing whatever. And continuing to talk of that
brother, who had been for so many years an object of care and fears:

"He isn't fit to hear what's said here. He believes it's all true. He
knows no better. He gets into his passions over it."

Mr Verloc made no comment.

"He glared at me, as if he didn't know who I was, when I went downstairs.
His heart was going like a hammer. He can't help being excitable. I
woke mother up, and asked her to sit with him till he went to sleep. It
isn't his fault. He's no trouble when he's left alone."

Mr Verloc made no comment.

"I wish he had never been to school," Mrs Verloc began again brusquely.
"He's always taking away those newspapers from the window to read. He
gets a red face poring over them. We don't get rid of a dozen numbers in
a month. They only take up room in the front window. And Mr Ossipon