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But within two or three minutes it was all over. The orator,
still gripping the neck of the microphone, his shoulders hunched forward,
his free hand clawing at the air, had gone straight on with his speech. One
minute more, and the feral roars of rage were again bursting from the
crowd. The Hate continued exactly as before, except that the target had
been changed.
The thing that impressed Winston in looking back was that the speaker
had switched from one line to the other actually in midsentence, not only
without a pause, but without even breaking the syntax. But at the moment he
had other things to preoccupy him. It was during the moment of disorder
while the posters were being torn down that a man whose face he did not see
had tapped him on the shoulder and said, 'Excuse me, I think you've dropped
your brief-case.' He took the brief-case abstractedly, without speaking. He
knew that it would be days before he had an opportunity to look inside it.
The instant that the demonstration was over he went straight to the
Ministry of Truth, though the time was now nearly twenty-three hours. The
entire staff of the Ministry had done likewise. The orders already issuing
from the telescreen, recalling them to their posts, were hardly necessary.
Oceania was at war with Eastasia: Oceania had always been at war with
Eastasia. A large part of the political literature of five years was now
completely obsolete.