this were a routine, a sort of catechism, most of whose answers were
known to him already.
'You are prepared to give your lives?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared to commit murder?'
'Yes.'
'To commit acts of sabotage which may cause the death of hundreds of
innocent people?'
'Yes.'
'To betray your country to foreign powers?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared to cheat, to forge, to blackmail, to corrupt the
minds of children, to distribute habit-forming drugs, to encourage
prostitution, to disseminate venereal diseases -- to do anything which is
likely to cause demoralization and weaken the power of the Party?'
'Yes.'
'If, for example, it would somehow serve our interests to throw
sulphuric acid in a child's face -- are you prepared to do that?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared to lose your identity and live out the rest of your
life as a waiter or a dock-worker?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared to commit suicide, if and when we order you to do
so?'
'Yes.'
'You are prepared, the two of you, to separate and never see one
another again?'
'No!' broke in Julia.
It appeared to Winston that a long time passed before he answered. For
a moment he seemed even to have been deprived of the power of speech. His
tongue worked soundlessly, forming the opening syllables first of one word,
then of the other, over and over again. Until he had said it, he did not
know which word he was going to say. 'No,' he said finally.
'You did well to tell me,' said O'Brien. 'It is necessary for us to
know everything.'
He turned himself toward Julia and added in a voice with somewhat more
expression in it: