The narrator uses hyperbole to draw the reader close to the Assistant Commissioner's feelings of annoyance at Inspector Heat’s incompetence. After Heat recounts what he’s discovered while investigating the London explosion, the Assistant Commissioner barely looks at him:
And still the Assistant Commissioner did not turn away from the darkness outside, as vast as a sea.
In this passage, the narrator describes the darkness outside the window as being as "vast as a sea." This is hyperbole: the reader knows that the darkness only seems endless because the night conceals details. Inspector Heat has just finished telling the Assistant Commissioner about the evidence he has put together about the bomb Stevie accidentally detonated from seemingly unlikely sources. His information seems unreliable, and it implicates suspects whom the Assistant Commissioner doesn’t believe could be involved. He “knows” that all the anarchists in London are supposed to be accounted for, and believes that Heat’s work is just a wild goose chase.
His refusal to engage with Heat underscores the Assistant Commissioner's feelings of exasperation and overwhelm. His choice to stare out of the window instead of politely making eye contact with Heat isn't just born from an interest in observation of the London night. It’s a reflection of his view of Heat’s apparent incompetence. To him, the mystery surrounding the explosion isn’t being efficiently cleared up by his colleague. As far as the Commissioner is concerned, the sequence of events is still shrouded in darkness. The hyperbolic description of the darkness outside suggests that he feels that the investigation is not progressing. Instead of bringing information to light, he feels that Heat is complicating things, and that under his leadership the “darkness” surrounding the terrorist attacks is still just as “vast” as ever. The night outside, it seems, contains as much useful information as Heat’s investigative efforts.
Conrad employs dramatic irony, metaphor, and allusion in this passage to clarify the disconnect between Mr. Verloc's hopeful expectations of escape and Winnie’s intense fury at him:
Mr. Verloc, in a soft and conjugal tone, was now expressing his firm belief that there were yet a good few years of quiet life before them both. He did not go into the question of means. A quiet life it must be and, as it were, nestling in the shade, concealed among men whose flesh is grass; modest, like the life of violets.
Mr. Verloc's "soft and conjugal tone" when addressing Winnie speaks volumes. He knows she’s upset, but he’s completely unprepared for the level of vengeful fury she’s about to exert. The reader and Winnie are privy to information that he is not: his persuasive, wheedling speech seems useless and almost pathetic. While he’s trying to persuade Winnie that they have a pleasant future ahead, the reader understands its impossibility and feels a sense of dread and tension.
Verloc’s gentle, metaphorical language of a future “nestled in the shade” and the possibility of a “life of violets” only builds this tension. Violets are small, easy-to-miss flowers. Verloc thinks that he and Winnie can have a happy future if they remain incognito, like violets in long grass. He sees a possibility for them to live abroad, humble, and undistinguished amidst the crowd. This desire to be unnoticed ties into his overall wish to escape any consequences of his crimes. He’s not just promising this future to Winnie, he’s actively trying to soothe her with the calming picture he’s painting.
The allusion he makes to “men whose flesh is grass" in this passage is a biblical reference. It points to Isaiah 40:6: “All Flesh is as Grass, and all the Glory of Man, as the Flower of Grass. The Grass withereth, and the Flower thereof falleth away: But the Word of the Lord endureth for ever.” It’s a passage which emphasizes the transience and frailty of human life. Here, Conrad juxtaposes this reference with Verloc's unlikely expectations of living peacefully in hiding. While the biblical context actually underlines human vulnerability, in Verloc's view, it’s about a kind of protective anonymity. He wishes for himself and his wife to hide among ordinary people, which he believes will protect them from harm. His vision is of a new, quiet life, hidden among this "grass." Yet, in another instance of dramatic irony, he doesn’t realize that his own life is in danger. Very shortly after this, Winnie stabs him to death, squashing any possibility of his “firm belief” in “a good few years of quiet life.”
When Winnie tries to confess murdering her husband to Ossipon, he underestimates her actions and misunderstands her meaning. Conrad uses dramatic irony to heighten the tension of the scene, as Ossipon asks her:
‘What the devil are you afraid of?’
‘Haven’t you guessed what I was driven to do!’ cried the woman.
Distracted by the vividness of her dreadful apprehensions, her head ringing with forceful words, that kept the horror of her position before her mind, she had imagined her incoherence to be clearness itself. She had no conscience of how little she had audibly said in the disjointed phrases completed only in her thought. She had felt the relief of a full confession, and she gave a special meaning to every sentence spoken by Comrade Ossipon, whose knowledge did not in the least resemble her own. ‘Haven’t you guessed what I was driven to do!’
In the passage, the dramatic irony present in the conversation amplifies the tension and miscommunication between Winnie and Ossipon. The reader understands Winnie's aghast internal state and the weight of her admission. However, Ossipon remains in the dark, resulting in a conversation full of mutual misunderstanding. When Winnie exclaims, "Haven’t you guessed what I was driven to do!" she thinks that Ossipon can infer that she has murdered her husband. However, her fragmented expressions have not fully conveyed her actions. There is a big disparity between her intended message and what her companion understands. The reader—who has insight into both perspectives—feels the frustration from both sides of the conversation. Winnie can't bring herself to confess her actions outright, and Ossipon is bewildered by her emotional outpouring and disheveled appearance. This knowledge places the reader in a position of waiting, anticipating the moment when Ossipon will realize the truth.
Ossipon, failing to gauge the severity of Winnie's statement, perceives her anxiety as related to political dangers or a personal dilemma rather than the act of murder. The fact that Winnie "felt the relief of a full confession" after speaking with Ossipon further underscores the situation's poignancy. She perceives her confession as clear and understood, whereas in actuality, her intent remains totally obscure to the young man until much later in their interaction.
