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. 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 for you to go. But wait. You had better let me give you one of these tablets.' As Winston stood up O'Brien held out a hand. His powerful grip crushed the bones of Winston's palm. At the door Winston looked back, but O'Brien seemed already to be in process of putting him out of mind. He was waiting with his hand on the switch that controlled the telescreen. Beyond him Winston could see the writing-table with its green- shaded lamp and the speakwrite and the wire baskets deep- laden with papers. The incident was closed. Within thirty seconds, it occurred to him, O'Brien would be back at his interrupted and important work on behalf of the Party. x x x Winston was gelatinous with fatigue
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