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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The Secret Agent by Joseph Conrad: husband and poor Stevie walking up Brett Street side by side away
from the shop. It was the last scene of an existence created by
Mrs Verloc's genius; an existence foreign to all grace and charm,
without beauty and almost without decency, but admirable in the
continuity of feeling and tenacity of purpose. And this last
vision has such plastic relief, such nearness of form, such a
fidelity of suggestive detail, that it wrung from Mrs Verloc an
anguished and faint murmur, reproducing the supreme illusion of her
life, an appalled murmur that died out on her blanched lips.
"Might have been father and son."
Mr Verloc stopped, and raised a care-worn face. "Eh? What did you
The Secret Agent |
