Книга только для ознакомления
. She dumped her brown tool-bag on the floor and flung herself into his arms. It was more than a week since they had seen one another. 'I've got the book,' he said as they disentangled themselves. 'Oh, you've got it? Good,' she said without much interest, and almost immediately knelt down beside the oilstove to make the coffee. They did not return to the subject until they had been in bed for half an hour. The evening was just cool enough to make it worth while to pull up the counterpane. From below came the familiar sound of singing and the scrape of boots on the flagstones. The brawny red-armed woman whom Winston had seen there on his first visit was almost a fixture in the yard. There seemed to be no hour of daylight when she was not marching to and fro between the washtub and the line, alternately gagging herself with clothes pegs and breaking forth into lusty song. Julia had settled down on her side and seemed to be already on the point of falling asleep. He reached out for the book, which was lying on the floor, and sat up against the bedhead. 'We must read it,' he said. 'You too. All members of the Brotherhood have to read it.' 'You read it,' she said with her eyes shut. 'Read it aloud
|
