- Now that the first chapter has described the Verloc household, the book returns to the opening line of the novel and reminds us that Mr. Verloc is leaving his home/shop in Stevie's care at half-past ten in the morning. The narrator mentions that the sun is "a peculiarly London sun—against nothing could be said except it looked bloodshot" (2.1). Get used to this atmosphere, because a bloodshot sun is probably the cheeriest weather Conrad describes in the entire book.
- Mr. Verloc looks over the things around him with "an approving eye" (2.1). He believes that "all these people [have] to be protected" (2.1). He appreciates the fact that all of them are pretty rich, and firmly believes that the most important thing for wealthy people is that they are protected and safe. More specifically, he believes that these people's property needs to be protected against the "shallow enviousness of unhygienic labour" (2.1).
- In a move that was very common in Conrad's time, Verloc draws a clear line between working-class and middle-class people. He loves the middle and upper classes, who are clean and rich, and he hates the working class, who are dirty and envious of the rich folks.
- The narrator just decides to go ahead and tell us that Mr. Verloc is a pretty lazy dude, which you could probably already tell from the fact that he never gets out of bed before 10 a.m. His parents were very hard-working people, but he has embraced laziness for reasons that the narrator can't really explain to us.
- Judging by Verloc's weight and nice clothes, people might think he is a lower-level businessman, but the narrator tells us that Verloc gives off a vibe that's "common to men who live on the vices, the follies, or the baser fears of mankind" (2.2). In this instance, the narrator suggests that you can almost tell by looking that Verloc has made his money off the worst parts of people's personalities.
- We learn that the reason Mr. Verloc has gotten all dressed up is because he has business with an embassy. He turns onto a private street where the numbers on the houses stop making sense. He passes No. 1 Chesham Square even though "Chesham Square [is] at least sixty blocks away" (2.3).
- He comes to a gate marked with the number 10, which joins two houses: one marked 9 Chesham Square and the other marked 37 Porthill Street. Obviously, the houses are not marked in any logical way, and this detail helps Conrad convey an overall sense of uncertainty and randomness in the maze-like streets of London. Mr. Verloc doesn't worry too much about this lack of order, though.
- Inside the embassy, Verloc is led to a waiting room, where he is eventually met by Privy Councilor Wurmt (what a last name!)—a bald, shortsighted man who doesn't seem all that happy about having to deal with Verloc.
- Wurmt lays down some reports that Verloc has written and tells Verloc that he's not happy about the way the London police have been treating the political radicals in London (and not because they've been too mean).
- Wurmt is convinced that the niceness of London police has made England a joke to the rest of Europe. Both Wurmt and Verloc agree that there is social unrest in England, and Verloc reminds Wurmt that he's been trying to document this unrest in his reports for the past twelve months.
- Out of nowhere, Wurmt tells Verloc that he (Verloc) is really fat, maybe suggesting that Verloc has been sitting around and eating up a government paycheck while being lazy. Verloc is hurt by the comment and tries to stand up for himself. But Wurmt gets too fed up with him and leaves, saying that Verloc should meet with a guy named Mr. Vladimir. A bit later, a servant in brown leads Verloc out of the room.
- Mr. Verloc enters a large room with three windows. Sitting in a big armchair behind a writing table is a "young man with a shaven, big face" (2.25). The guy's name is Mr. Vladimir, and he has a reputation for being really popular in London's high society because of his wit and charm. With Verloc, though, he's all business.
- After they speak for a few moments in French, Vladimir suddenly shifts into English without the slightest trace of an accent. This shows that Vladimir knows the spy game well, and is an expert at shifting his cultural identity without detection.
- You learn from the following conversation that Verloc's first gig working for the English government was obtaining the plans for a new French gun. He was caught doing this and put into a high-security French jail for five years. He'd like to get a little credit for his sacrifice, but Vladimir just calls him a loser for getting caught.
- Vladimir slams Verloc for being too fat to pass himself off as an anarchist, since anarchists are supposed to be poor and starving. At this point, a few threads come together, and you realize that Verloc is a government agent who's been hired to spy on anarchists and anarchist groups in London.
- Vladimir goes on to tell Verloc that his former boss (named Baron Stott-Wartenheim) was a crazy old man, and that Verloc is going to have to start producing concrete results in his work or stop picking up a government check.
- Verloc starts shouting at Vladimir, showing off the great booming voice that's made him super popular at left-wing rallies. Mr. Verloc says his work is constantly preventing attacks in London, but Vladimir tells him that he's not interested in prevention. What he wants is for the police to start whomping people they don't like the look of, which can't happen unless some radical commits an act of destruction. Vladimir then tells Verloc that there is an international conference coming up in Milan, and that he wants something to happen in London before this conference to set the governments of Europe cracking down on left-wing radicals.
- Verloc feels that his own lazy lifestyle is being threatened, and can't stand the idea of having to actually do something to earn the money he makes. Morally, he doesn't care one way or the other about an attack in London.
- Mr. Vladimir adds that he's not all that interested in killing a bunch of people, but this is only because people have gotten too used to the idea of murder in London. Vladimir wants the attack to have a great effect on people's minds, so it has to have symbolic significance. Vladimir then goes on to reason why it won't matter if Verloc attacks royalty or the church, since people might think that the attack was the effort of a crazy individual, and not part of some larger threat.
- Vladimir says that Verloc has to attack science, since during Conrad's time science was everyone's favorite flavor of the month.
- Finally, Vladimir gets down to talking turkey, and says he wants a political radical to attack an observatory in the neighborhood of Greenwich. The location of this observatory is at "the first meridian," which today is still the standard for clock-time around the globe. Vladimir is convinced that such an attack on the very idea of scientific reason will produce enough fear in London to lead to some really harsh laws.
- Verloc argues that the plan will cost money, but Vladimir throws this comment back in his face and says Verloc won't be getting any more government cheese unless he starts producing results quickly. Vladimir gives Verloc a month to bomb the Greenwich observatory, and Verloc walks home in a fog, wondering what he's going to do.
- The chapter concludes with his wife Winnie glancing through the curtain that leads between the Verloc's home and the shop, where she sees Verloc sitting and thinking on a chair behind the cash counter. This sight is followed by a brief history of how Winnie has always considered herself lucky to have Verloc for a husband, since he tolerates her brother Stevie like a housecat, which is the best she can hope for. We also learn that when Winnie was younger, she went on a few dates with a butcher's son, who she really seemed to like-like.
- But one day, without warning, Winnie came home depressed and stopped seeing the boy. A short while later, she met and agreed to marry Mr. Verloc, who was much older than her, but was a good provider for Winnie, her mother, and Stevie. Winnie's mother has always counted this turn of events as a stroke of incredibly good luck, something "clearly providential" (2.138).