It was a bright cold day in april and the clocks were stricking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breasts in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of victory mansion, though not quickly enough to prevent a sworl of gritty dust enter along wih him
It was a bright cold day. The clocks were stricking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breasts in an effort to escape the vile wind. He slipped quickley though the doors of victory mansion; though not quickley enough to prevent a swirl a of gritty dust entering along with him

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