A lean man of roughly forty, very fair and grey-eyed, he resembled the man from the poster HONOR OUR INTELLECTUAL LABORERS, though of course without the telescope. He appeared to be dreaming of something cold but fine. Perhaps he was thinking of music. He moved with obvious pleasure, despite his slight limp; you could see he liked to have physical purpose.
But then he noticed Julia, and his mouth thinned with revulsion. It was stratliing how it changed him: hawk to reptile. Julia thought: Nothing wrong a good shag wouldn't fix! This almost made her laugh, for of course it was true. His real trouble wasn't that his parents had been unpersons, or that he couldn't keep up with Party doctrine, or even his nasty cough. Old Misery had a bad case of Sex Gone Sour. And naturally a woman was to blame. Who else?