1984

           ItwasalmosttimeforWinstonandthegirltopart. Butatthelastmoment,whilethecrowdstillhemmedthemin,herhandfeltforhisandgaveitafleetingsqueeze. 

           Itcouldnothavebeentenseconds,andyetitseemedalongtimethattheirhandswereclaspedtogether. Hehadtimetolearneverydetailofherhand. Heexploredthelongfingers,theshapelynails,thework-hardenedpalmwithitsrowofcallouses,thesmoothfleshunderthewrist. Merelyfromfeelingithewouldhaveknownitbysight. Inthesameinstantitoccurredtohimthathedidnotknowwhatcolourthegirl’seyeswere. Theywereprobablybrown,butpeoplewithdarkhairsometimeshadblueeyes. Toturnhisheadandlookatherwouldhavebeeninconceivablefolly. Withhandslockedtogether,invisibleamongthepressofbodies,theystaredsteadilyinfrontofthem,andinsteadoftheeyesofthegirl,theeyesoftheagedprisonergazedmournfullyatWinstonoutofnestsofhair.