'll shoot
me, do you, old chap? They don't shoot you if you haven't actually done
anything -- only thoughts, which you can't help? I know they give you a
fair hearing. Oh, I trust them for that! They'll know my record, won't
they? You know what kind of chap I was. Not a bad chap in my way. Not
brainy, of course, but keen. I tried to do my best for the Party, didn't I?
I'll get off with five years, don't you think? Or even ten years? A chap
like me could make himself pretty useful in a labour-camp. They wouldn't
shoot me for going off the rails just once?'
'Are you guilty?' said Winston.
'Of course I'm guilty!' cried Parsons with a servile glance at the
telescreen. 'You don't think the Party would arrest an innocent man, do
you?' His frog-like face grew calmer, and even took on a slightly
sanctimonious expression. 'Thoughtcrime is a dreadful thing, old man,' he
said sententiously. 'It's insidious. It can get hold of you without your
even knowing it. Do you know how it got hold of me? In my sleep! Yes,
that's a fact. There I was, working away, trying to do my bit -- never knew
I had any bad stuff in my mind at all. And then I started talking in my
sleep. Do you know what they heard me saying?'
He sank his voice, like someone who is obliged for medical reasons to
utter an obscenity.
'"Down with Big Brother!" Yes, I said that! Said it over and over
again, it seems. Between you and me, old man, I'm glad they got me bef