Winnie made the tea, and called out in an undertone: "Adolf." Mr Verloc got up at once, and staggered a little before he sat down at the table.

His wife examining the sharp edge of the carving knife, placed it on the dish, and called his attention to the cold beef.

He remained insensible to the suggestion, with his chin on his breast.
"You should feed your cold," Mrs Verloc said dogmatically.
He looked up, and shook his head.

His eyes were bloodshot and his face red.

His fingers had ruffled his hair into a dissipated untidiness.
Altogether he had a disreputable aspect, expressive of the discomfort, the irritation and the gloom following a heavy debauch.