The moment seemed propitious.

Looking out of the corners of his eyes, he saw her ample shoulders draped in white, the back of her head, with the hair done for the night in three plaits tied up with black tapes at the ends.

And he forbore.

Mr Verloc loved his wife as a wife should be loved--that is, maritally, with the regard one has for one's chief possession.

This head arranged for the night, those ample shoulders, had an aspect of familiar sacredness--the sacredness of domestic peace.