`Comfortable，dear？’sheaskedinafaint，far—awayvoice。`ShallIputoutthelightnow？’
ThedrearyconvictionthattherewasnosleepforhimheldMrVerlocmuteandhopelesslyinertinhisfearofdarkness。Hemadeagreateffort。
`Yes。Putitout，’hesaidatlastinahollowtone。
CONRAD:TheSecretAgent，Chapter4CHAPTER4
Mostofthethirtyorsolittletablescoveredbyredclothswithawhitedesignstoodrangedatrightanglestothedeepbrownwainscotingoftheundergroundhall。Bronzechandelierswithmanyglobesdependedfromthelow，slightlyvaultedceiling，andthefrescopaintingsranflatanddullallroundthewallswithoutwindows，representingscenesofthechaseandofoutdoorrevelryinmedievalcostumes。Varletsingreenjerkinsbrandishedhuntingknivesandraisedonhightankardsoffoamingbeer。
`UnlessIamverymuchmistaken，youarethemanwhowouldknowtheinsideofthisconfoundedaffair，’saidtherobustOssipon，leaningover，hiselbowsfaroutonthetableandhisfeettuckedbackcompletelyunderhischair。Hiseyesstaredwithwildeagerness。
Anuprightsemi—grandpianonearthedoor，flankedbytwopalmsinpots，executedsuddenlyallbyitselfavalsetunewithaggressivevirtuosity。
Thedinitraisedwasdeafening。Whenitceased，asabruptlyasithadstarted，thebespectacled，dingylittlemanwhofacedOssiponbehindaheavyglassmugfullofbeeremittedcalmlywhathadthesoundofageneralproposition。
`Inprinciplewhatoneofusmayormaynotknowastoanygivenfactcan’tbeamatterforinquirytotheothers。’
`Certainlynot，’ComradeOssiponagreedinaquietundertone。`Inprinciple。’
Withhisbigfloridfaceheldbetweenhishandshecontinuedtostarehard，whilethedingylittlemaninspectaclescoollytookadrinkofbeerandstoodtheglassmugbackonthetable。Hisflat，largeearsdepartedwidelyfromthesidesofhisskull，whichlookedfrailenoughforOssipontocrushbetweenthumbandforefinger;thedomeoftheforeheadseemedtorestontherimofthespectacles;theflatcheeks，ofagreasy，unhealthycomplexion，weremerelysmudgedbythemiserablepovertyofathindarkwhisker。Thelamentableinferiorityofthewholephysiquewasmadeludicrousbythesupremelyself—confidentbearingoftheindividual。Hisspeechwascurt，andhehadaparticularlyimpressivemannerofkeepingsilent。
Ossiponspokeagainfrombetweenhishandsinamutter。`Haveyoubeenoutmuchtoday？’
`No。Istayedinbedallthemorning，’answeredtheother。`Why？’
`Oh！Nothing，’saidOssipon，gazingearnestlyandquiveringinwardlywiththedesiretofindoutsomething，butobviouslyintimidatedbythelittleman’soverwhelmingairofunconcern。Whentalkingwiththiscomrade—whichhappenedbutrarely—thebigOssiponsufferedfromasenseofmoralandevenphysicalinsignificance。However，heventuredanotherquestion。
`Didyouwalkdownhere？’
`No;omnibus，’thelittlemananswered，readilyenough。HelivedfarawayinIslington，inasmallhousedownashabbystreet，litteredwithstrawanddirtypaper，whereoutofschoolhoursatroopofassortedchildrenranandsquabbledwithashrill，joyless，rowdyclamour。Hissinglebackroom，remarkableforhavinganextremelylargecupboard，herentedfurnishedfromtwoelderlyspinsters，dressmakersinahumblewaywithaclienteleofservantgirlsmostly。Hehadaheavypadlockputonthecupboard，butotherwisehewasamodellodger，givingnotrouble，andrequiringpracticallynoattendance。Hisodditieswerethatheinsistedonbeingpresentwhenhisroomwasbeingswept，andthatwhenhewentouthelockedhisdoor，andtookthekeyawaywithhim。
Ossiponhadavisionoftheseroundblack—rimmedspectaclesprogressingalongthestreetsonthetopofanomnibus，theirself—confidentglitterfallinghereandthereonthewallsofhousesorloweredupontheheadsoftheunconsciousstreamofpeopleonthepavements。TheghostofasicklysmilealteredthesetofOssipon’sthicklipsatthethoughtofthewallsnodding，ofpeoplerunningforlifeatthesightofthosespectacles。Iftheyhadonlyknown！Whatapanic！Hemurmuredinterrogatively:`Beensittinglonghere？’
`Anhourormore，’answeredtheother，negligently，andtookapullatthedarkbeer。Allhismovements—thewayhegraspedthemug，theactofdrinking，thewayhesettheheavyglassdownandfoldedhisarms—
hadafirmness，anassuredprecisionwhichmadethebigandmuscularOssipon，leaningforwardwithstaringeyesandprotrudinglips，lookthepictureofeagerindecision。
`Anhour，’hesaid。`Thenitmaybeyouhaven’theardyetthenewsI’veheardjustnow—inthestreet。Haveyou？’
Thelittlemanshookhisheadnegativelytheleastbit。ButashegavenoindicationofcuriosityOssiponventuredtoaddthathehadhearditjustoutsidetheplace。Anewspaperboyhadyelledthethingunderhisverynose，andnotbeingpreparedforanythingofthatsort，hewasverymuchstartledandupset。Hehadtocomeintherewithadrymouth。`Ineverthoughtoffindingyouhere，’headded，murmuringsteadily，withhiselbowsplantedonthetable。
`Icomeheresometimes，’saidtheother，preservinghisprovokingcoolnessofdemeanour。
`It’swonderfulthatyouofallpeopleshouldhaveheardnothingofit，’thebigOssiponcontinued。Hiseyelidssnappednervouslyupontheshiningeyes。`Youofallpeople，’herepeated，tentatively。Thisobviousrestraintarguedanincredibleandinexplicabletimidityofthebigfellowbeforethecalmlittleman，whoagainliftedtheglassmug，drank，andputitdownwithbrusqueandassuredmovements。Andthatwasall。Ossipon，afterwaitingforsomething，wordorsign，thatdidnotcome，madeanefforttoassumeasortofindifference。
`Doyou，’hesaid，deadeninghisvoicestillmore，`giveyourstufftoanybodywho’suptoaskingyouforit？’
`Myabsoluteruleisnevertorefuseanybody—aslongasIhaveapinchbyme，’answeredthelittlemanwithdecision。
`That’saprinciple？’commentedOssipon。`It’saprinciple。’
`Andyouthinkit’ssound？’
Thelargeroundspectacles，whichgavealookofstaringsellconfidencetothesallowface，confrontedOssiponlikesleepless，unwinkingorbsflashingacoldfire。
`Perfectly。Always。Undereverycircumstance。Whatcouldstopme？WhyshouldInot？WhyshouldIthinktwiceaboutit？’
Ossipongasped，asitwere，discreetly。
`Doyoumeantosayyouwouldhanditovertoatecifonecametoaskyouforyourwares？’
Theothersmiledfaintly。
`Letthemcomeandtryiton，andyouwillsee，’hesaid。`Theyknowme，butIknowalsoeveryoneofthem。Theywon’tcomenearme—notthey。’
Histhin，lividlipssnappedtogetherfirmly。Ossiponbegantoargue。
`Buttheycouldsendsomeone—rigaplantonyou。Don’tyousee？Getthestufffromyouinthatway，andthenarrestyouwiththeproofintheirhands。’
`Proofofwhat？Dealinginexplosiveswithoutalicenceperhaps。’Thiswasmeantforacontemptuousjeer，thoughtheexpressionofthethin，sicklymanremainedunchanged，andtheutterancewasnegligent。`Idon’tthinkthere’soneofthemanxioustomakethatarrest。Idon’tthinktheycouldgetoneofthemtoapplyforawarrant。Imeanoneofthebest。Notone。’
`Why？’Ossiponasked。
`BecausetheyknowverywellItakecarenevertopartwiththelasthandfulofmywares。I’veitalwaysbyme。’Hetouchedthebreastofhiscoatlightly。`Inathickglassflask，’headded。
`SoIhavebeentold，’saidOssipon，withashadeofwonderinhisvoice。
`ButIdidn’tknowif——’
`Theyknow，’interruptedthelittleman，crisply，leaningagainstthestraightchairback，whichrosehigherthanhisfragilehead。`Ishallneverbearrested。Thegameisn’tgoodenoughforanypolicemanofthemall。Todealwithamanlikemeyourequiresheer，naked，ingloriousheroism。’
Againhislipsclosedwithaself—confidentsnap。Ossiponrepressedamovementofimpatience。
`Orrecklessness—orsimplyignorance，’heretorted。`They’veonlytogetsomebodyforthejobwhodoesnotknowyoucarryenoughstuffinyourpockettoblowyourselfandeverythingwithinsixtyyardsofyoutopieces。’
`IneveraffirmedIcouldnotbeeliminated，’rejoinedtheother。`Butthatwouldn’tbeanarrest。Moreover，it’snotsoeasyasitlooks。’
`Bah！’Ossiponcontradicted。`Don’tbetoosureofthat。What’stopreventhalfadozenofthemjumpinguponyoufrombehindinthestreet？Withyourarmspinnedtoyoursidesyoucoulddonothing—couldyou？’
`Yes;Icould。Iamseldomoutinthestreetsafterdark，’saidthelittleman，impassively，`andneververylate。Iwalkalwayswithmyrighthandclosedroundtheindia—rubberballwhichIhaveinmytrouserpocket。
ThepressingofthisballactuatesadetonatorinsidetheflaskIcarryinmypocket。It’stheprincipleofthepneumaticinstantaneousshutterforacameralens。Thetubeleadsup——’
Withaswift，disclosinggesturehegaveOssiponaglimpseofanindiarubbertube，resemblingaslenderbrownworm，issuingfromthearmholeofhiswaistcoatandplungingintotheinnerbreastpocketofhisjacket。Hisclothes，ofanondescriptbrownmixture，werethreadbareandmarkedwithstains，dustyinthefolds，withraggedbutton—holes。`Thedetonatorispartlymechanical，partlychemical，’heexplained，withcasualcondescension。
`Itisinstantaneous，ofcourse？’murmuredOssipon，withaslightshudder。
`Farfromit，’confessedtheother，withareluctancewhichseemedtotwisthismouthdolorously。`AfulltwentysecondsmustelapsefromthemomentIpresstheballtilltheexplosiontakesplace。’
`Phew！’whistledOssipon，completelyappalled。`Twentyseconds！Horrors！
Youmeantosaythatyoucouldfacethat？Ishouldgocrazy——’
`Wouldn’tmatterifyoudid。Ofcourse，it’stheweakpointofthisspecialsystem，whichisonlyformyownuse。Theworstisthatthemannerofexplodingisalwaystheweakpointwithus。Iamtryingtoinventadetonatorthatwouldadjustitselftoallconditionsofaction，andeventounexpectedchangesofconditions。Avariableandyetperfectlyprecisemechanism。Areallyintelligentdetonator。’
`Twentyseconds，’mutteredOssiponagain。`Ough！Andthen——’
WithaslightturnoftheheadtheglitterofthespectaclesseemedtogaugethesizeofthebeersalooninthebasementoftherenownedSilenusRestaurant。
`Nobodyinthisroomcouldhopetoescape，’wastheverdictofthatsurvey。`Noryetthiscouplegoingupthestairsnow。’
Thepianoatthefootofthestaircaseclangedthroughamazurkawithbrazenimpetuosity，asthoughavulgarandimpudentghostwereshowingoff。Thekeyssankandrosemysteriously。Thenallbecamestill。ForamomentOssiponimaginedtheover—lightedplacechangedintoadreadfulblackholebelchinghorriblefumes，chokedwithghastlyrubbishofsmashedbrickworkandmutilatedcorpses。Hehadsuchadistinctperceptionofruinanddeaththatheshudderedagain。Theotherobserved，withanairofcalmsufficiency:
`Inthelastinstanceitischaracteralonethatmakesforone’ssafety。
Thereareveryfewpeopleintheworldwhosecharacterisaswellestablishedasmine。’
`Iwonderhowyoumanagedit，’growledOssipon。
`Forceofpersonality，’saidtheother，withoutraisinghisvoice;andcomingfromthemouthofthatobviouslymiserableorganismtheassertioncausedtherobustOssipontobitehislowerlip。`Forceofpersonality，’
herepeated，withostentatiouscalm。
`Ihavethemeanstomakemyselfdeadly，butthatbyitself，youunderstand，isabsolutelynothinginthewayofprotection。Whatiseffectiveisthebeliefthosepeoplehaveinmywilltousethemeans。That’stheirimpression。
Itisabsolute。ThereforeIamdeadly。’
`Thereareindividualsofcharacteramongstthatlot，too，’mutteredOssiponominously。
`Possibly。Butitisamatterofdegreeobviously，since，forinstance，Iamnotimpressedbythem。Thereforetheyareinferior。Theycannotbeotherwise。Theircharacterisbuiltuponconventionalmorality。Itleansonthesocialorder。Minestandsfreefromeverythingartificial。Theyareboundinallsortsofconventions。Theydependonlife，which，inthisconnection，isahistoricalfactsurroundedbyallsortsofrestraintsandconsiderations，acomplex，organizedfactopentoattackateverypoint;
whereasIdependondeath，whichknowsnorestraintandcannotbeattacked。
Mysuperiorityisevident。’
`Thisisatranscendentalwayofputtingit，’saidOssipon，watchingthecoldglitteroftheroundspectacles。`I’veheardKarlYundtsaymuchthesamethingnotverylongago。’
`KarlYundt，’mumbledtheother，contemptuously，`thedelegateoftheInternationalRedCommittee，hasbeenaposturingshadowallhislife。
Therearethreeofyoudelegates，aren’tthere？Iwon’tdefinetheothertwo，asyouareoneofthem。Butwhatyousaymeansnothing。Youaretheworthydelegatesforrevolutionarypropaganda，butthetroubleisnotonlythatyouareasunabletothinkindependentlyasanyrespectablegrocerorjournalistofthemall，butthatyouhavenocharacterwhatever。’
Ossiponcouldnotrestrainastartofindignation。
`Butwhatdoyouwantfromus？’heexclaimedinadeadenedvoice。`Whatisityouareafteryourself？’
`Aperfectdetonator，’wastheperemptoryanswer。`Whatareyoumakingthatfacefor？Yousee，youcan’tevenbearthementionofsomethingconclusive。’
`Iamnotmakingaface，’growledtheannoyedOssiponbearishly。`Yourevolutionists，’theothercontinued，withleisurelyself—confidence，`aretheslavesofthesocialconvention，whichisafraidofyou;slavesofitasmuchastheverypolicethatstandupinthedefenceofthatconvention。
Clearlyyouare，sinceyouwanttorevolutionizeit。Itgovernsyourthought，ofcourse，andyouraction，too，andthusneitheryourthoughtnoryouractioncaneverbeconclusive。’Hepaused，tranquil，withthatairofclose，endlesssilence，thenalmostimmediatelywenton:`Youarenotabitbetterthantheforcesarrayedagainstyou—thanthepolice，forinstance。TheotherdayIcamesuddenlyuponChiefInspectorHeatatthecornerofTottenhamCourtRoad。Helookedatmeverysteadily。ButIdidnotlookathim。WhyshouldIgivehimmorethanaglance？Hewasthinkingofmanythings—
ofhissuperiors，ofhisreputation，ofthelawcourts，ofhissalary，ofnewspapers—ofahundredthings。ButIwasthinkingofmyperfectdetonatoronly。Hemeantnothingtome。Hewasasinsignificantas—Ican’tcalltomindanythinginsignificantenoughtocomparehimwith—exceptKarlYundtperhaps。Liketolike。Theterroristandthepolicemanbothcomefromthesamebasket。Revolution，legality—countermovesinthesamegame;formsofidlenessatbottomidentical。Heplayshislittlegame—
sodoyoupropagandists。ButIdon’tplay;Iworkfourteenhoursaday，andgohungrysometimes。Myexperimentscostmoneynowandagain，andthenImustdowithoutfoodforadayortwo。You’relookingatmybeer。Yes。
Ihavehadtwoglassesalready，andshallhaveanotherpresently。Thisisalittleholiday，andIcelebrateitalone。Whynot？I’vethegrittoworkalone，quitealone，absolutelyalone。I’veworkedaloneforyears。
Ossipon’sfacehadturnedduskyred。
`Attheperfectdetonator—eh？’hesneered，verylow。
`Yes，’retortedtheother。`Itisagooddefinition。Youcouldn’tfindanythinghalfsoprecisetodefinethenatureofyouractivitywithallyourcommitteesanddelegations。ItisIwhoamthetruepropagandist。’
`Wewon’tdiscussthatpoint，’saidOssipon，withanairofrisingabovepersonalconsiderations。`IamafraidI’llhavetospoilyourholidayforyou，though。There’samanblownupinGreenwichParkthismorning。’
`Howdoyouknow？’
`Theyhavebeenyellingthenewsinthestreetssincetwoo’clock。I
boughtthepaper，andjustraninhere。ThenIsawyousittingatthistable。I’vegotitinmypocketnow。’
Hepulledthenewspaperout。Itwasagood—sized，rosysheet，asifflushedbythewarmthofitsownconvictionswhichwereoptimistic。Hescannedthepagesrapidly。
`Ah！Hereitis。BombinGreenwichPark。Thereisn’tmuchsofar。Halfpasteleven。Foggymorning。EffectsofexplosionfeltasfarasRomneyRoadandParkPlace。Enormousholeinthegroundunderatreefilledwithsmashedrootsandbrokenbranches。Allroundfragmentsofaman’sbodyblowntopieces。That’sall。Therest’smerenewspapergup。NodoubtawickedattempttoblowuptheObservatory，theysay。H’m。That’shardlycredible。’
Helookedatthepaperforawhilelongerinsilencethenpassedittotheother，who，aftergazingabstractedlyattheprint，laiditdownwithoutcomment。
ItwasOssiponwhospokefirst—stillresentful。
`Thefragmentsofonlyoneman，younote。Ergo:blewhimselfup。Thatspoilsyourdayoffforyou—don’tit？Wereyouexpectingthatsortofmove？Ihadn’ttheslightestidea—nottheghostofanotionofanythingofthesortbeingplannedtocomeoffhere—inthiscountry。
Underthepresentcircumstancesit’snothingshortofcriminal。’
Thelittlemanliftedhisthinblackeyebrowswithdispassionatescorn。
`Criminal！Whatisthat？Whatiscrime？Whatcanbethemeaningofsuchanassertion？’
`HowamItoexpressmyself？Onemustusethecurrentwords，’saidOssipon，impatiently。`Themeaningofthisassertionisthatthisbusinessmayaffectourpositionveryadverselyinthiscountry。Isn’tthatcrimeenoughforyou？Iamconvincedyouhavebeengivingawaysomeofyourstufflately。’
Ossiponstaredhard。Theother，withoutflinching，loweredandraisedhisheadslowly。
`Youhave！’burstouttheeditoroftheF。P。leafletsinanintensewhisper。`No！Andareyoureallyhandingitoveratlargelikethis，fortheasking，tothefirstfoolthatcomesalong？’
`Justso！Thecondemnedsocialorderhasnotbeenbuiltuponpaperandink，andIdon’tfancythatacombinationofpaperandinkwilleverputanendtoit，whateveryoumaythink。Yes，Iwouldgivethestuffwithbothhandstoeveryman，woman，orfoolthatlikestocomealong。Iknowwhatyouarethinkingabout。ButIamnottakingmycuefromtheRedCommittee。
Iwouldseeyouallhoundedoutofhere，orarrested—orbeheadedforthatmatter—withoutturningahair。Whathappenstousasindividualsisnotoftheleastconsequence。’
Hespokecarelessly，withoutheat，almostwithoutfeeling，andOssipon，secretlymuchaffected，triedtocopythisdetachment。
`Ifthepolicehereknewtheirbusinesstheywouldshootyoufullofholeswithrevolvers，orelsetrytosand—bagyoufrombehindinbroaddaylight。’
Thelittlemanseemedalreadytohaveconsideredthatpointofviewinhisdispassionate，self—confidentmanner。
`Yes，’heassentedwiththeutmostreadiness。`Butforthattheywouldhavetofacetheirowninstitutions。Doyousee？Thatrequiresuncommongrit。Gritofaspecialkind。’
Ossiponblinked。
`Ifancythat’sexactlywhatwouldhappentoyouifyouweretosetupyourlaboratoryintheStates。Theydon’tstandonceremonywiththeirinstitutionsthere。’
`Iamnotlikelytogoandsee。Otherwiseyourremarkisjust，admittedtheother。`Theyhavemorecharacteroverthere，andtheircharacterisessentiallyanarchistic。Fertilegroundforus，theStates—verygoodground。ThegreatRepublichastherootofthedestructivematterinher。
Thecollectivetemperamentislawless。Excellent。Theymayshootusdown，but——’
`Youaretootranscendentalforme，’growledOssipon，withmoodyconcern。
`Logical，’protestedtheother。`Thereareseveralkindsoflogic。Thisistheenlightenedkind。Americaisallright。Itisthiscountrythatisdangerous，withheridealisticconceptionoflegality。Thesocialspiritofthispeopleiswrappedupinscrupulousprejudices，andthatisfataltoourwork。YoutalkofEnglandbeingouronlyrefuge！Somuchtheworse。
Capua！Whatdowewantwithrefuges？Hereyoutalk，print，plot，anddonothing。Idaresayit’sveryconvenientforsuchKarlYundts。’
Heshruggedhisshouldersslightly，thenaddedwiththesameleisurelyassurance:`Tobreakupthesuperstitionandworshipoflegalityshouldbeouraim。NothingwouldpleasememorethantoseeInspectorHeatandhislikestaketoshootingusdowninbroaddaylightwiththeapprovalofthepublic。Halfourbattlewouldbewonthen:thedisintegrationoftheoldmoralitywouldhavesetininitsverytemple。Thatiswhatyououghttoaimat。Butyourevolutionistswillneverunderstandthat。Youplanthefuture，youloseyourselvesinreveriesofeconomicalsystemsderivedfromwhatis;whereaswhat’swantedisacleansweepandaclearstartforanewconceptionoflife。Thatsortoffuturewilltakecareofitselfifyouwillonlymakeroomforit。ThereforeIwouldshovelmystuffinheapsatthecornersofthestreetsifIhadenoughforthat;
andasIhaven’t，Idomybestbyperfectingareallydependabledetonator。’
Ossipon，whohadbeenmentallyswimmingindeepwaters，seizeduponthelastwordasititwereasavingplank。
`Yes。Yourdetonators。Ishouldn’twonderifitweren’toneofyourdetonatorsthatmadeacleansweepofthemaninthepark。’
Ashadeofvexationdarkenedthedetermined，sallowfaceconfrontingOssipon。
`Mydifficultyconsistspreciselyinexperimentingpracticallywiththevariouskinds。Theymustbetried，afterall。Besides——’
Ossiponinterrupted。
`Whocouldthatfellowbe？IassureyouthatweinLondonhadnoknowledge—Couldn’tyoudescribethepersonyougavethestuffto？’
TheotherturnedhisspectaclesuponOssiponlikeapairofsearchlights。
`Describehim，’herepeated，slowly。`Idon’tthinktherecanbetheslightestobjectionnow。Iwilldescribehimtoyouinoneword—Verloc。’
Ossipon，whomcuriosityhadliftedafewinchesoffhisseat，droppedback，asifhitintheface。
`Verloc！Impossible。’Theself—possessedlittlemannoddedslightlyonce。
`Yes。He’stheperson。Youcan’tsaythatinthiscaseIwasgivingmystufftothefirstfoolthatcamealong。HewasaprominentmemberofthegroupasfarasIunderstand。’
`Yes，’saidOssipon。`Prominent。No，notexactly。Hewasthecentreforgeneralintelligence，andusuallyreceivedcomradescomingoverhere。
Moreusefulthanimportant。Manofnoideas。Yearsagoheusedtospeakatmeetings—inFrance，Ibelieve。Notverywell，though。HewastrustedbysuchmenasLatorre，Moser，andallthatoldlot。Theonlytalentheshowedreallywashisabilitytoeludetheattentionsofthepolicesomehow。
Here，forinstance，hedidnotseemtobelookedafterveryclosely。Hewasregularlymarried，youknow。Isupposeit’swithhermoneythathestartedthatshop。Seemedtomakeitpay，too。
Ossiponpausedabruptly，mutteredtohimself`Iwonderwhatthatwomanwilldonow？’andfellintothought。
Theotherwaitedwithostentatiousindifference。Hisparentagewasobscure，andhewasgenerallyknownonlybyhisnicknameofProfessor。Histitletothatdesignationconsistedinhishavingbeenonceassistantdemonstratorinchemistryatsometechnicalinstitute。Hequarrelledwiththeauthoritiesuponaquestionofunfairtreatment。Afterwardsheobtainedapostinthelaboratoryofamanufactoryof’dyes。There，too，hehadbeentreatedwithrevoltinginjustice。Hisstruggles，hisprivations，hishardworktoraisehimselfinthesocialscale，hadfilledhimwithsuchanexaltedconvictionofhismeritsthatitwasextremelydifficultfortheworldtotreathimwithjustice—thestandardofthatnotiondependingsomuchuponthepatienceoftheindividual。TheProfessorhadgenius，butlackedthegreatsocialvirtueofresignation。
`Intellectuallyanonentity，’Ossiponpronouncedaloud，abandoningsuddenlytheinwardcontemplationofMrsVerloc’sbereavedpersonandbusiness。
`Quiteanordinarypersonality。Youarewronginnotkeepingmoreintouchwiththecomrades，Professor，’headdedinareprovingtone。`Didhesayanythingtoyou—giveyousomeideaofhisintentions？Ihadn’tseenhimforamonth。Itdeemsimpossiblethatheshouldbegone。’
`Hetoldmeitwasgoingtobeademonstrationagainstabuilding，’
saidtheProfessor。`Ihadtoknowthatmuchtopreparethemissile。I
pointedouttohimthatIhadhardlyasufficientquantityforacompletelydestructiveresult，buthepressedmeveryearnestlytodomybest。Ashewantedsomethingthatcouldbecarriedopenlyinthehand，Iproposedtomakeuseofanoldone—galloncopalvarnishcanIhappenedtohavebyme。Hewaspleasedattheidea。Itgavemesometrouble，becauseIhadtocutoutthebottomfirstandsolderitonagainafterwards。Whenpreparedforuse，thecanenclosedawide—mouthed，well—corkedjarofthickglasspackedaroundwithsomewetclayandcontainingsixteenouncesofX2greenpowder。Thedetonatorwasconnectedwiththescrewtopofthecan。Itwasingenious—acombinationoftimeandshock。Iexplainedthesystemtohim。Itwasathintubeoftinenclosing——’
Ossipon’sattentionhadwandered。`Whatdoyouthinkhashappened？’
heinterrupted。
`Can’ttell。Screwedthetopontight，whichwouldmaketheconnection，andthenforgotthetime。Itwassetfortwentyminutes。Ontheotherhand，thetimecontactbeingmade，asharpshockwouldbringabouttheexplosionatonce。Heeitherranthetimetooclose，orsimplyletthethingfall。
Thecontactwasmadeallright—that’scleartomeatanyrate。Thesystem’sworkedperfectly。Andyetyouwouldthinkthatacommonfoolinahurrywouldbemuchmorelikelytoforgettomakethecontactaltogether。Iwasworryingmyselfaboutthatsortoffailuremostly。Buttherearemorekindsoffoolsthanonecanguardagainst。Youcan’texpectadetonatortobeabsolutelyfoolproof。’
Hebeckonedtoawaiter。Ossiponsatrigid，withtheabstractedgazeofmentaltravail。Afterthemanhadgoneawaywiththemoneyherousedhimself，withanairofprofounddissatisfaction。
