Page 226 - 1984

O’Brien. ‘We shall meet again—if we do meet again——’
Winston looked up at him. ‘In the place where there is no
darkness?’ he said hesitantly.
O’Brien nodded without appearance of surprise. ‘In the
place where there is no darkness,’ he said, as though he had
recognized the allusion. ‘And in the meantime, is there any-
thing that you wish to say before you leave? Any message?
Any question?.’
Winston thought. There did not seem to be any further
question that he wanted to ask: still less did he feel any
impulse to utter high-sounding generalities. Instead of any-
thing directly connected with O’Brien or the Brotherhood,
there came into his mind a sort of composite picture of the
dark bedroom where his mother had spent her last days,
and the little room over Mr Charrington’s shop, and the
glass paperweight, and the steel engraving in its rosewood
frame. Almost at random he said:
‘Did you ever happen to hear an old rhyme that begins
‘Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St Clement’s’?’
Again O’Brien nodded. With a sort of grave courtesy he
completed the stanza:

’Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St Clement’s,
You owe me three farthings, say the bells of St Martin’s,
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey,
When I grow rich, say the bells of Shoreditch.’

‘You knew the last line!’ said Winston.
‘Yes, I knew the last line. And now, I am afraid, it is time