Part two Chapter ten

When Julia and I awoke, I looked out at a prole woman, at least fifty, that was singing while doing laundry. It was there I realized her beauty, even though she was red and coarse and ballooned from childbearing she was beautiful in her own way. I thought that must be the meaning in Goldstein's book, that proles are the future. I realized the future was the hope, and we are dead. I heard the telescreen repeat, "You are dead." We were surrounded, and then Mr. Charrington and other thought police came in and had Julia and me surrounded.