was it?' he said in surprise.
'A rat. I saw him stick his beastly nose out of the wainscoting.
There's a hole down there. I gave him a good fright, anyway.'
'Rats!' murmured Winston. 'In this room!'
'They're all over the place,' said Julia indifferently as she lay down
again. 'We've even got them in the kitchen at the hostel. Some parts of
London are swarming with them. Did you know they attack children? Yes, they
do. In some of these streets a woman daren't leave a baby alone for two
minutes. It's the great huge brown ones that do it. And the nasty thing is
that the brutes always--'
'Don't go on!' said Winston, with his eyes tightly shut.
'Dearest! You've gone quite pale. What's the matter? Do they make you
feel sick?'
'Of all horrors in the world -- a rat!'
She pressed herself against him and wound her limbs round him, as
though to reassure him with the warmth of her body. He did not reopen his
eyes immediately. For several moments he had had the feeling of being back
in a nightmare which had recurred from time to time throughout his life. It
was always very much the same. He was standing in front of a wall of
darkness, and on the other side of it there was something unendurable,
something too dreadful to be faced. In the dream his deepest feeling was
always one of self-deception, because he did in fact know what was behind
the wall of darkness. With a deadly effort, like wrenching a piece out of
his own brain, he could even have dragged the thing into the open. He
always woke up without discovering what it was: but somehow it was
connected with what Julia had been saying when he cut her short.
'I'm sorry,' he said, 'it's nothing. I don't like rats, that's all.'
'Don't worry, dear, we're not going to have the filthy brutes in here.
I'll stuff the hole with a bit of sacking before we go. And next tim