1 BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.
2 It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week.
3 Outside, even through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold.
4 It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
5 At one end of it a coloured poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall.
6 On each landing, opposite the lift-shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall.
7 It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move.
8 Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable.
9 Even at the best of times it was seldom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours.
10 The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall.
11 Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do with the production of pig-iron.
12 He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the party.
13 His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by coarse soap and blunt razor blades and the cold of the winter that had just ended.
14 The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine and had a varicose ulcer above his right ankle, went slowly, resting several times on the way.
15 It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black moustache and ruggedly handsome features.
16 Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
17 Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere.
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