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Posted by on December 25, 2007, 6:53 pm
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'Here's where that brute stuck his nose
out,' she said, kicking the wainscoting immediately below the picture.
'What is this place? I've seen it before somewhere.'
'It's a church, or at least it used to be. St. Clement's Danes its
name was.' The fragment of rhyme that Mr. Charrington had taught him came
back into his head, and he added half-nostalgically: "Oranges and lemons,"
say the bells of St. Clement's!'
To his astonishment she capped the line:
'You owe me three farthings,' say the bells of St. Martin's,
'When will you pay me?' say the bells of Old Bailey--
'I can't remember how it goes on after that. But anyway I remember it
ends up, "Here comes a candle to light you to bed, here comes a chopper to
chop off your head!"'
It was like the two halves of a countersign. But there must be another
line after 'the bells of Old Bailey'. Perhaps it could be dug out of Mr.
Charrington's memory, if he were suitably prompted.
'Who taught you that?' he said.
'My grandfather. He used to say it to me when I was a little girl. He
was vaporized when I was eight -- at any rate, he disappeared. I wonder
what a lemon was,' she added inconsequently. 'I've seen oranges. They're a
kind of round yellow fruit with a thick skin.'
'I can remember lemons,' said Winston. 'They were quite common in the
fifties. They were so sour that it set your teeth on edge even to smell
them.'
'I bet that picture's got bugs behind it,' said Julia. 'I'll take it
down and give it a good clean some day. I suppose it's almost time we were
leaving. I must start washing this paint off. What a bore! I'll get the
lipstick off your face afterwards.'
Winston did not get up for a few minutes more. The room was darkening.
He turned over towards the light and lay gazing into the glass paper
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