The light thrown down by the shade fell dazzlingly on the white pillow sunk by the weight of her head reposing with closed eyes and dark hair done up in several plaits for the night.

She woke up with the sound of her name in her ears, and saw her husband standing over her.
"Winnie! Winnie!" At first she did not stir, lying very quiet and looking at the cash-box in Mr Verloc's hand.

But when she understood that her brother was "capering all over the place downstairs" she swung out in one sudden movement on to the edge of the bed.

Her bare feet, as if poked through the bottom of an unadorned, sleeved calico sack buttoned tightly at neck and wrists, felt over the rug for the slippers while she looked upward into her husband's face.
"I don't know how to manage him," Mr Verloc explained peevishly.

"Won't do to leave him downstairs alone with the lights." She said nothing, glided across the room swiftly, and the door closed upon her white form.
Mr Verloc deposited the cash-box on the night table, and began the operation of undressing by flinging his overcoat on to a distant chair.
His coat and waistcoat followed.