70) yerberation of a bell. His heart had leapt. It’s starte thought. A riot! The proles are breaking loose at last! Whey! had reached the spot it was to see a mob of two or three » dred women crowding around the stalls of a street mate, with faces as tragic as though they had been the doomed pay ‘S sengers on a sinking ship. But at this moment the genera] de. _ spair broke down into a multitude of individual quarrels © appeared that one of the stalls had been selling tin saucepans ~ They were wretched, flimsy things, but cooking pots of any ‘kind were always difficult to get. Now the supply had unex. ~ pectedly given out. The successful women, bumped and jos. , tled by the rest, were trying to make off with their saucepans ~S while dozens of others clamored round the stall, accusing the ~S stattkeeper of favoritism and of having more saucepans some. where in reserve. There was a fresh outburst of yells. Two bloated women, one of them with her hair coming down, had 2 got hold of the same saucepan and were trying to tear it out of & one another's hands. For a moment they were both tugging, “Sand then the handle came off. Winston watched them disgust. S; Sealy. 0 < Until they become,conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious A ‘That, he reflected, might almost have been a transcription from one of the Party textbooks. The Party claimed, of course, to have liberated the proles from bondage. Before the Revo- lution they had been hideously oppressed by the capitalists, they had been starved and flogged, women had been forced to