Who donates typically, when Vincent puts the striking m alongside the coast?

had hold of her one at each corner. They wrenched off the boots with which
she had been trying to kick them, and dumped her down across Winston's lap,
almost breaking his thigh-bones. The woman hoisted herself upright and
followed them out with a yell of 'F-- bastards!' Then, noticing that she
was sitting on something uneven, she slid off Winston's knees on to the
bench.
'Beg pardon, dearie,' she said. 'I wouldn't 'a sat on you, only the
buggers put me there. They dono 'ow to treat a lady, do they?' She paused,
patted her breast, and belched. 'Pardon,' she said, 'I ain't meself,
quite.'
She leant forward and vomited copiously on the floor.
'Thass better,' she said, leaning back with closed eyes. 'Never keep
it down, thass what I say. Get it up while it's fresh on your stomach,
like.'
She revived, turned to have another look at Winston and seemed
immediately to take a fancy to him. She put a vast arm round his shoulder
and drew him towards her, breathing beer and vomit into his face.
'Wass your name, dearie?' she said.
'Smith,' said Winston.
'Smith?' said the woman. 'Thass funny. My name's Smith too. Why,' she
added sentimentally, 'I might be your mother!'
She might, thought Winston, be his mother. She was about the right age
and physique, and it was probable that people changed somewhat after twenty
years in a forced-labour camp.
No one else had spoken to him. To a surprising exten