of minor risks suddenly
seemed stupid. It was not till twenty-three hours, when he was home and in
bed -- in the darkness, where you were safe even from the telescreen so
long as you kept silent -- that he was able to think continuously.
It was a physical problem that had to be solved: how to get in touch
with the girl and arrange a meeting. He did not consider any longer the
possibility that she might be laying some kind of trap for him. He knew
that it was not so, because of her unmistakable agitation when she handed
him the note. Obviously she had been frightened out of her wits, as well
she might be. Nor did the idea of refusing her advances even cross his
mind. Only five nights ago he had contemplated smashing her skull in with a
cobblestone, but that was of no importance. He thought of her naked,
youthful body, as he had seen it in his dream. He had imagined her a fool
like all the rest of them, her head stuffed with lies and hatred, her belly
full of ice. A kind of fever seized him at the thought that he might lose
her, the white youthful body might slip away from him! What he feared more
than anything else was that she would simply change her mind if he did not
get in touch with her quickly. But the physical difficulty of meeting was
enormous. It was like trying to make a move at chess when you were already
mated. Whichever way you turned, the telescreen faced you. Actually, all
the possible ways of communicating with her had occurred to him within

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