'
Quickly, with an occasional crackle of twigs, they threaded their way
back to the clearing. When they were once inside the ring of saplings she
turned and faced him. They were both breathing fast. but the smile had
reappeared round the corners of her mouth. She stood looking at him for an
instant, then felt at the zipper of her overalls. And, yes! it was almost
as in his dream. Almost as swiftly as he had imagined it, she had torn her
clothes off, and when she flung them aside it was with that same
magnificent gesture by which a whole civilization seemed to be annihilated.
Her body gleamed white in the sun. But for a moment he did not look at her
body; his eyes were anchored by the freckled face with its faint, bold
smile. He knelt down before her and took her hands in his.
'Have you done this before?'
'Of course. Hundreds of times -- well, scores of times anyway.'
'With Party members?'
'Yes, always with Party members.'
'With members of the Inner Party?'
'Not with those swine, no. But there's plenty that would if they got
half a chance. They're not so holy as they make out.'
His heart leapt. Scores of times she had done it: he wished it had
been hundreds -- thousands. Anything that hinted at corruption always
filled him with a wild hope. Who knew, perhaps the Party was rotten under
the surface, its cult of strenuousness and self-denial simply a sham
concealing iniquity. If he could have infected the whole lot of them with
leprosy or syphilis, how gladly he would have done so! Anything to rot, to
weaken, to undermine! He pulled her down so that they were kneeling face to
face.
'Listen. The more men you've