Winston drew in his breath. He opened his mouth to speak and then did
not speak. He could not take his eyes away from the dial.
'The truth, please, Winston. Your truth. Tell me what you think you
remember.'
'I remember that until only a week before I was arrested, we were not
at war with Eastasia at all. We were in alliance with them. The war was
against Eurasia. That had lasted for four years. Before that--'
O'Brien stopped him with a movement of the hand.
'Another example,' he said. 'Some years ago you had a very serious
delusion indeed. You believed that three men, three one-time Party members
named Jones, Aaronson, and Rutherford men who were executed for treachery
and sabotage after making the fullest possible confession -- were not
guilty of the crimes they were charged with. You believed that you had seen
unmistakable documentary evidence proving that their confessions were
false. There was a certain photograph about which you had a hallucination.
You believed that you had actually held it in your hands. It was a
photograph something like this.'
An oblong slip of newspaper had appeared between O'Brien's fingers.
For perhaps five seconds it was within the angle of Winston's vision. It
was a photograph, and there was no question of its identity. It was THE
photograph. It was another copy of the photograph of Jones, Aaronson, and
Rutherford at the party function in New York, which he had chanced upon
eleven years ago and promptly destroyed. For only an instant it was before
his eyes, then it was out of sight again. But he had seen it,
unquestionably he had seen it! He made a desperate, agonizing effort to
wrench the top half of his body free. It was impossible to move so much as
a centimetre in any direction. For the moment he had even forgotten the
dial