1984

           Thedooropened,andanotherprisonerwasbroughtinwhoseappearancesentamomentarychillthroughWinston. Hewasacommonplace,mean-lookingmanwhomighthavebeenanengineerortechnicianofsomekind. Butwhatwasstartlingwastheemaciationofhisface.Itwaslikeaskull. Becauseofitsthinnessthemouthandeyeslookeddisproportionatelylarge,andtheeyesseemedfilledwithamurderous,unappeasablehatredofsomebodyorsomething. 

           ThemansatdownonthebenchatalittledistancefromWinston. Winstondidnotlookathimagain,butthetormented,skull-likefacewasasvividinhismindasthoughithadbeenstraightinfrontofhiseyes. Suddenlyherealizedwhatwasthematter. Themanwasdyingofstarvation. Thesamethoughtseemedtooccuralmostsimultaneouslytoeveryoneinthecell.Therewasaveryfaintstirringallthewayroundthebench. Theeyesofthechinlessmankeptflittingtowardstheskull-facedman,thenturningguiltilyaway,thenbeingdraggedbackbyanirresistibleattraction. Presentlyhebegantofidgetonhisseat. Atlasthestoodup,waddledclumsilyacrossthecell,dugdownintothepocketofhisoveralls,and,withanabashedair,heldoutagrimypieceofbreadtotheskull-facedman. 

           Therewasafurious,deafeningroarfromthetelescreen. Thechinlessmanjumpedinhistracks. Theskull-facedmanhadquicklythrusthishandsbehindhisback,asthoughdemonstratingtoalltheworldthatherefusedthegift. 

           ‘Bumstead!’roaredthevoice. ‘2713BumsteadJ.! Letfallthatpieceofbread!’ 

           Thechinlessmandroppedthepieceofbreadonthefloor.